Ilfirin Meleth II The Test of Ties
by Anoron
Summary: Sequel to Ilfirin Meleth. A century later, Dawn is thrown right back into hell. Also a Guns N' Roses Songfic.COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1: Dark Dreams in Happier Times

ILFIRIN MELETH TWO- THE TEST OF TIES  
  
DISCLAIMER- I own nothing but the plot. Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy owns all names and places from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and JRR Tolkein/Tolkein Enterprises is the proud owner of the Lord of the Rings and everything within that world. The two songs featured in this fic, Don't Cry (Alt. lyrics) and Estranged are written by Axl Rose and are the property of Guns N' Roses/Geffen Records. All I own is a Jeff Hardy action figure and a fish named Pippin and you can't have them!  
  
RATING- 18, contains violence, suicide themes, some language and sex scenes. You've been warned!  
  
PROLOGUE/ CHAPTER ONE- DARK DREAMS IN HAPPIER TIMES  
  
~~~  
  
Dawn was chained to the wall in a cave. Harmony was pacing back and forth in front of her, prattling about how leading a gang of the most idiotic vampires ever to set foot in Sunnydale was so trying.  
  
Suddenly, the rest of Harmony's gang appeared at the mouth of the cave and moved in to eat Dawn. Dawn was not worried, this was merely a memory of something that had happened in another world and another lifetime, and Buffy would appear any second to save her.  
  
She heard an immature version of her voice stammer, "Touch me and my sister's gonna kill you," and waited for the vampires to start dusting.  
  
But there was no dust. Buffy appeared, Dawn could see her over the shoulder of the nearest vampire. But the Slayer, her sister, simply smirked and lounged against the cave wall. As Dawn looked on in horror, Buffy's face morphed into a snarling vampire, yellow eyes glowering at her and fangs resting on the lower lip.  
  
Buffy crossed the cave to where Dawn was chained and, with a sinister laugh, sank her fangs deep into her little sister's neck.  
  
~~~  
  
"Buffy," Dawn panted, bolting upright in her bed. Within half a second, Legolas was sitting up beside her, his hands caressing her face.  
  
"Dawn, melamin? What's wrong?" he prodded gently. [My love]  
  
"I had another dream, about Sunnydale," she admitted.  
  
"Another one?"  
  
Dawn had been having nightmares of events in her old world for some weeks now. She always detailed them to Legolas, they were the most painful events of her former life some nights, and others were like tonight. Dreams where her she was stuck in her old body while her family either abandoned her to death or became monsters thirsting for her blood before her very eyes.  
  
"What happened this time?" Legolas wanted to know. He had found from experience that if he wanted a detailed account of his wife's dreams, he had to ask for it straight away because she wouldn't want to talk about it in the daylight hours.  
  
"It was Buffy. I was fourteen, she was supposed to save me. But she wasn't my sister anymore, she was a vampire and she drank from me." Dawn shuddered a little to herself at the memory. Her dreams were becoming more and more violent and painful.  
  
Legolas drew her head down to cradle against his chest, kissing the top of the rich brown strands. "Do you think it was a warning of some sort?" he asked, already knowing the answer she would give.  
  
"No. My life in Sunnydale is over, there's no reason for me to be linked to the Hellmouth anymore. I'm just stressed about the next few weeks is all."  
  
"Yes, it's not every day a girl from Sunnydale becomes a Queen," Legolas smiled. In just a fortnight, Thranduil would be sailing for Valinor and the Kingdom of Mirkwood would be left to Legolas and Dawn to rule over. All the preparations had been made, and now they awaited only the arrival of Gimli, now over two and a half centuries old, from the Lonely Mountain. Gimli would witness the coronation of his dearest Elf friend before joining the party sailing to the Undying Lands.  
  
"Uh-huh," Dawn murmured, already starting to drift back towards blissful sleep. "Except of course for the time I was nearly kidnapped as an Underworld Child Bride."  
  
"Well, I promise I won't sing then," Legolas chuckled as he watched Dawn sink at last into an untroubled slumber. He kissed her cheek softly, marvelling again at her vibrant beauty before settling back into rest himself.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Dawn awoke with a smile on her face and a light in her green eyes. She had not forgotten her nightmare, she never forgot any of them, but in the daylight they could not touch her. Her home was a paradise, a safe haven where nothing could hurt her and she was indestructible. She knew a large part of that feeling came from her faith in the Elf lying beside her on the pillows, indulgently watching as she came into consciousness.  
  
"Mmm- quel amrun," she murmured, leaning in for a kiss. [Good morning]  
  
"Right back at you," Legolas replied, already shifting even closer to his wife. After a century, he was becoming more and more accustomed to using Dawn's language, just as she had mastered Elvish. He had decided long ago, however, that Elvish was a much simpler language to learn than 'Valley-speak'.  
  
Dawn giggled as Legolas began to nibble on her earlobe, before sliding his mouth down to her neck. She felt him slipping a hand up underneath her nightgown and before she knew it, the garment had been whipped over her head.  
  
She felt for the waistband of his pants, but her hand met with nothing more than warm flesh. He was already naked. "Cheater," she pouted, taking his face in her hands so she could pull his lips to hers.  
  
She felt his body shake a little against hers as he tried to control his laughter and broke the kiss. "It's not that funny."  
  
But Legolas did not bother to respond, he lost the ability to form full words as soon as he felt Dawn's warm body moving underneath his.  
  
It was some time later when they were interrupted by a loud knocking on the door. "My Lord?" a distinctly embarrassed sounding voice called through the thick oak. "The King calls for your presence in the Counsel Room."  
  
"Ugh," Dawn threw her head back on the pillows, wiping the sweat from her brow. Then she snickered at the tone the Elf on the other side of the door had taken when calling out. The tone that definitely said he knew he was interrupting and did not enjoy the prospect of having to be the one to do so. "I think we were too noisy. Again."  
  
With a smile and a kiss, Legolas got up and dressed with lightning speed. Thranduil still had a lot he wished to speak to Legolas about before he left Middle-Earth, and he knew from the position of the sun that he was over an hour late already, but his father would not be angry with him. All Legolas ever had to do was mention Dawn's name and Thranduil's expression brightened and he immediately asked after 'Mirkwood's favourite Princess'.  
  
He finished dressing and perched on the edge of the mattress. "Most likely I shall be detained all day with Atar so I will see you tonight. I love you, Dawn." [Father]  
  
"Love you too, baby. Tell Thranduil I said hi."  
  
* * * * * 


	2. Chapter 2: Leaving Home

Still I own nothing. Still you rub it in. Thanks... not! Well, here we go again, hold on tight, coz you're about to embark on a roller-coaster ride of despair. Sorry for those of you who wanted Legolas to accompany you on this ride (hey, what girl *doesn't* wanna ride Legolas... I mean WITH Legolas, yeah, with, that's it!) but he will be leaving the attraction very shortly. He does come back, though, promise!!!  
  
CHAPTER TWO- LEAVING HOME  
  
The next week passed without much incident, save for the dreams which still plagued Dawn in the deep of the night. They had occurred sporadically at first, but now a night did not pass where Dawn did not wake up sweating and whimpering from some nightmare or other.  
  
Legolas said nothing, but the Elf keenly noticed that the dreams were having a much greater effect on Dawn than they had been in the previous weeks. Her cheeks were often wet with tears when she awoke in the darkness, and once she'd had her nightly dream, it became increasingly difficult for her to settle back into sleep.  
  
At breakfast she was questioned by both Legolas and Thranduil, who was becoming concerned with the weariness that seemed to have taken hold of his daughter-in-law. But Dawn insisted that she was fine, merely a little tired.  
  
Legolas and Thranduil exchanged identical glances as they watched Dawn chasing her food around her plate, oblivious to her audience. They focused again on their own meals, only to hear a sharp gasp and a cry of pain erupt from Dawn out of the blue.  
  
"Dawn!" Legolas' fork clattered to his plate and in a heartbeat he was crouched by her side.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Dawn felt her body being pulled in all different directions, almost as if her insides were being ripped out. She instinctively curled into a ball to protect her body, but could do nothing to protect her heart and mind as she was plagued by tormenting images.  
  
Her Sunnydale family was there again, but they were almost unrecognisable to her. Spike had morphed into vampface, and the rest of them were in the guise of the most horrific monsters beyond description that Dawn had ever seen. They were uglier than Uruk-Hai, and more chilling than the Gentlemen even.  
  
They all smiled at Dawn as they surrounded her closed in for the kill.  
  
With a bloodcurdling shriek, Dawn snapped out of the vision and found herself back where she belonged; in Mirkwood. Legolas was crouched by her, his crystal blue eyes wide with worry. Thranduil hovered behind his son, equally concerned.  
  
"Melamin?" Legolas whispered, reaching for her hand.  
  
Dawn squeezed it tightly as she tried to expel the images she'd just seen from her mind. She groaned in agony. The pain ripping through her body had subsided, but she still felt the ache within from it, and not surprisingly she had developed a splitting headache. "Sunnydale again," she finally managed to whisper. Her free hand unconsciously rubbed her stomach as she fought to regain control of herself.  
  
"Is everything all right?" Legolas asked the moment he saw Dawn's hand flutter to her midsection. He continued only when she had nodded her affirmation that she was indeed fine. "That's never happened before, not while you were awake," Legolas fretted.  
  
"Yeah, I don't remember my dreams hurting so much before, either," Dawn commented.  
  
"What is going on? Dawn? Legolas? Tell me," Thranduil ordered.  
  
With a quick look to check on his wife, Legolas opened his mouth to speak. "Dawn's been having dreams. They started a month or two ago and bring up painful past memories she has of her old life and shows her family there to her as monsters."  
  
Thranduil was a little angered that he had not been informed of this sooner. He was a King, after all, and Kings were used to having everything they desired at their fingertips. He hated the knowledge that he had been deprived of this important information until now. "Why did you not tell me sooner?"  
  
"It's no big deal, really," Dawn hurried to assure him. "I'm fine, I think it's just stress. I bet once everything settles down around here, I'll be five by five in no time!" She forced a smile to back her words. She hated to admit it, but she was beginning to doubt herself here. The feeling that nothing on the Hellmouth was coincidental or without meaning was beginning to grow heavier, sinking into the pit of her stomach.  
  
Legolas and Thranduil looked at her sceptically but said nothing. Deep down they knew she was lying, but they wanted so badly to believe her that they forced themselves to. Dawn noticed the looks aimed at her and decided to change the subject.  
  
"So, a week left before the big happy suicide. Howya feeling about that? Still looking forward to it?" Dawn asked Thranduil, who smiled and nodded at her.  
  
"Yes, I am, Dawn. For I know I leave the Kingdom in capable hands."  
  
* * * * *  
  
After the breakfast incident, the pains Dawn felt seemed to increase in strength and frequency until she could no longer hide them from her family. Thranduil considered putting off the scheduled party to travel to the Grey Havens with him to offer his support, but Dawn wouldn't hear of it.  
  
She barely slept for four days, too pained by her nightmares to close her eyes at night. But the nightmares followed her into the daylight. At any given moment, the shriek of the young Princess could be heard far across the forest as she collapsed on the spot, hauled out of reality and into her nightmare world.  
  
Legolas himself barely slept under the strain, but the effects were not so taxing on his Elvish body as they were on Dawn's human one. Also, he realised, the pressure of being forced in and out of realities was taking its toll on Dawn, who at times could do little more than lie on their bed and try in vain to silence her whimpering.  
  
Then, on the fifth morning, the pain subsided. Dawn looked to Legolas and smiled her relief. She basked in the morning sun warming her face through the windows and allowed herself an hour of blissful rest. She awoke feeling refreshed and new, and went in search of her husband, who had left her to sleep in peace.  
  
She found him easily, he was waiting for her in their favourite courtyard as if he knew she'd come. It was a large space, with a stone bench, ornately carved in the centre of the clearing and arches stretching over the paths leading to and from the courtyard, adorned with the rich greenery of the Mirkwood.  
  
"You are feeling better," Legolas stated as she came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his upper torso to give him a loving squeeze.  
  
"You bet your ass I am. I feel... free, somehow. Like whatever was going on with me is all over now." Dawn slipped around to stand in front of him, flashing a dazzling smile that reassured him that everything was going to be all right.  
  
Legolas could not help but return the smile, feeling as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. On impulse, he swept Dawn up in his arms and twirled her around and around.  
  
Dawn squealed with surprise and delight as the world spun around her in a blur of greenery. She closed her eyes, giving herself over to the sensation, almost as if she was flying.  
  
Then the pain came tearing back with more velocity than ever before. Her squeals of joy choked in Dawn's throat, quickly overtaken by an anguished cry that chilled Legolas to the bone. He stopped the twirling motion, resting Dawn in his arms.  
  
Her eyes were open, but there was a faraway look in the green depths as she focused on something which seemed to Legolas to be just beyond his sight. He sank to the ground, cradling Dawn's body, which was shaking violently. Sweat had begun to pour from her forehead and her screams still echoed in his sensitive ears.  
  
"No! Buffy, please no!" Dawn's screams began to form into words. Trapped again in her dream world, she could see and feel her sister and the other Scoobies, again in monster form, reaching into her chest to rip out her heart.  
  
As the blond Slayer's hand came into contact with the material of Dawn's bodice, the Key closed her eyes against it and fought for control. A hazy image of Legolas shimmered before her and she strained with all her mind and body to reach him.  
  
Tears had begun to slip down Legolas' cheeks. He paid them no more attention than he did the crowd of concerned Elves beginning to gather around the couple slumped on the ground in the courtyard. He gasped as Dawn's hand suddenly clasped his, and with some effort, she focused on his bright blue eyes.  
  
"Dawn, I'm here. Tell me what to do, Melamin," he cried desperately, squeezing her hand in his.  
  
"Don't let go," she pleaded, her voice barely able to form more than a whisper.  
  
"Never, never Princess. I won't let go," Legolas swore. "Tell me what's wrong."  
  
"It- f-feels like I'm being ripped apart- on- on the inside," she whimpered, another harsh groan of agony erupting from deep within her.  
  
Dawn's eyes lost their focus as she was yanked roughly back into her nightmare. Buffy's hand tore through her flesh and bone with a vile cracking and slurping sound. It reappeared a moment later, triumphantly holding up a bloody mass... Dawn's heart.  
  
Legolas tightened his grip on Dawn's hand, but he could feel it slipping from his. A tear dripped from the end of his chin, the droplet falling towards Dawn's arm. But it splashed on the dirt of the forest floor. Without warning, Dawn had vanished.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Don't hate me for splitting them up, please. [pouty whining voice] I hate myself for doing it enough and I wanna slap myself even as we speak... or as I write. Just wait and see where it takes us and I hope you won't be disappointed. But R&R & let me know what you think because I am addicted to your reviews! Oooh- next chapter the songfic kicks in too, so I hope you like that when it comes. I've never really tried a songfice before, so fingers crossed it doesn't completely suck. [Ducking out of the way of whatever painful objects Legolas/Dawn fans are throwing at me] ~Anoron 


	3. Chapter 3: Hell is Where the Heart Is

Yeah, yeah I know it isn't mine. Not the Buffy characters, not the LOTR characters, not the Guns N' Roses song, not the pen I stole from the bank to write this fic with. But hey, at least we're getting to the songfic part now! Also, I know I am very, very evil for doing this to Dawn and our Legsy, but there is a sad and interesting story here, promise! I think Spike fans will enjoy (unfortunately, later Spike, not Big Bad Spike). Although I love them both, Big Bad just has no place here right now. R&R please, reviews are a drug and I am addicted so please support my habit, it costs less than most and doesn't leave a bad smell. ~Anoron  
  
CHAPTER THREE- HELL IS WHERE THE HEART IS  
  
// If we could see tomorrow, what of your plans?  
  
No-one can live in sorrow, ask all your friends  
  
Times that you took in stride they're back in demand  
  
I was the one who was washing blood off your hands //  
  
Dawn's eyes sprang open and she gasped. 'Legolas?', the thought flashed across her mind before she even regarded her location. Not at all like the warrior she had become during the War of the Ring, but she didn't care. She looked around for her husband.  
  
She recognised her surroundings immediately. It had been a century since she'd seen her old home in Sunnydale, but the house looked exactly the same as she'd remembered. Familiar faces stared back at her. Five of them. They were all crying.  
  
Dawn didn't understand what was happening at all. One moment she'd been so happy she though she would burst, the next, she'd felt a searing pain and her old life, long left behind, rushing back like a stake to the heart. How could this have happened?  
  
"We did it," Willow whispered, eyes wide as she took Dawn in. "We brought you back."  
  
Dawn's eyes widened as she stared at the witch. They had done this? Why would they do this to her? What had she done to deserve everything she held dear being taken away?  
  
She was lying on the couch, dressed in the clothing she could only guess she had been buried in. The comforting sensation of a cool mithril band around her finger told her without looking that she was, somehow, still wearing her wedding ring. Perhaps the blessing Galadriel had performed on it had enchanted it somehow to remain with her essence. She really didn't care how, as long as it was with her. She pushed herself into a sitting position, warily regarding Willow.  
  
"You're home now Dawny," a voice she would know anywhere told her softly.  
  
She stared at Buffy. Home. She was home? This wasn't home, home was a forest paradise another world away. This was the Hellmouth. Her forehead creased and her eyes glittered dangerously at the word.  
  
Tara smiled timidly. "We did an 'Aura Scan' for you sweetie, and you weren't in any of the Heavenly dimensions, so we rescued you."  
  
"We brought you out of hell. You're safe now," Xander added.  
  
Dawn just shook her head at them. She couldn't believe this was happening. Buffy sat down beside her and gently brushed her sister's hair back from her face. Buffy had done it a million times before, and Dawn had always found the contact soothing. But now she had to resist the temptation to pull away from her sister. The touch made her skin crawl.  
  
"How long has it been?" Buffy asked quietly.  
  
When Dawn finally spoke, her voice was as flat and numb as she felt. "Hundred years..."  
  
"Oh God," Willow murmured, aghast. "Dawny, we're so sorry we didn't pull you out sooner."  
  
The bitter scowl that flitted across Dawn's face was completely misinterpreted by those around her.  
  
The last silent person in the room, whom Dawn had overlooked at first, spoke. "It's been three months here without you," Spike told her.  
  
When Dawn looked up at Spike, pain flashed so brilliantly across her face the others were taken aback. Spike looked hurt by Dawn's expression. She was staring at him, for the first time noticing how much he looked like Legolas. The slender, but well muscled body, the pale blond hair, and the blue eyes reminded Dawn so sharply of her husband that she couldn't conceal her pain.  
  
Xander's eyes narrowed at the vampire. "What the hell did you do to her?"  
  
"Me?" Spike shot back. "I didn't do anything, I'm just standing here. You're all the ones who've been doing major mojo on the Bit tonight, and you're surprised she's a little shocked!?"  
  
"You're upsetting her!" Xander yelled. "I don't know what you're up to Spike, but you've been against this from the start and now look what you've done!" Xander was gesturing to Dawn, who by now had completely shut herself off from the world. She was staring blankly ahead, barely breathing even, and her pale face looked almost like a corpse.  
  
"Get away from her," Xander growled in a low, dangerous voice.  
  
After taking one last concerned look at Dawn, Spike turned and stormed out the front door. He'd be back before sunrise, anyway.  
  
Buffy touched Dawn's arm lightly. "Dawny? Sweetheart? He's gone, it's ok now."  
  
Slowly, Dawn refocused on the world around her. As soon as she did, though, she found she could hardly stand the sight of the people crowded around her.  
  
"I'm tired. I'm going to bed." Without another word she walked slowly up to her old room.  
  
She reached the door and stumbled slightly as she walked through. A slight frown formed over her features at her own clumsiness. There was a faint twinge in her stomach. She couldn't remember the last time she had moved with anything other than the grace that comes from a century of walking amongst the Elves. With a click, the rest of the world was locked out and she walked slowly to the bed.  
  
With one tug, the covers were pulled back, exposing the crisp white sheets beneath. Dawn lay on the sheets without bothering to replace the covers over herself. When her stomach contracted again, with more force than last time, Dawn did not react at all. She knew exactly what it was...  
  
~~~  
  
Dawn looked around and smiled. She was perfectly content. She lived in a beautiful realm, of which she was about to be Queen. And she loved the Elf who would be her King, the Prince of her heart, with every fibre of her being. She hardly dared believe this perfect existence was hers forever. Part of her couldn't help but wonder if the last century had been nothing more than a pleasant dream.  
  
But no, she knew it was real. If this had been a dream for her, all her friends would yet live. The Hobbits, Eowyn, Eomer and Faramir. Estel, her brother. If the world was perfect, one of her dearest living friends Arwen would not have spent the last forty years a widow. A cloud passed over Dawn's eyes for the briefest second as she thought of the mortals she loved so dearly. In this she included her Sunnydale family (even Spike, though she knew he wasn't mortal), she missed them all at times. But they were safe, and resting. She knew it in her heart, and the knowledge gave her the freedom to live out her immortality happily as they would have wanted. In fact, practically Estel's last words to her were orders for her to mind hers and her husband's happiness. She had not let her brother down.  
  
Dawn smiled down at her stomach. For the past week she hadn't been sure, but now there was no mistaking it. She'd been feeling queasy in the mornings, much to the worry of her husband, and she could feel the life growing inside her. She was having a baby. Legolas' baby. She sighed and left the balcony, turning back into the bedroom she shared with Legolas. It had come as quite a stir when the Prince had first brought his Princess home, a century ago now. Legolas had insisted that Dawn share his chambers, instead of being placed in her own suite. Such a thing had never before been heard of from Elvish royalty, but Thranduil, so happy with his son's euphoria, so delighted with having his new daughter-in-law home, yielded to their request all too easily.  
  
Legolas was just coming through the door, having been sequestered with his father in meetings all day. His face lit up at the sight of his bride. After all these years, he still couldn't quite believe she was real, and she was his. He noticed her eyes shining with happy tears. Seeing her happiness caused a smile to spread over his own features immediately. He didn't even have to ask.  
  
"Hey honey," her soft, sweet voice floated across the room to him, Dawn herself barely a step behind. She reached him and looked down, a strange blush creeping over her cheeks to complement the smile she could not contain.  
  
"What, melamin?" Legolas asked, laughter creeping into his voice with anticipation.  
  
"Well..." she looked up at him. "We're going to have a baby, Legolas." She touched her stomach lightly. "I'm pregnant."  
  
Legolas gaped at her a moment, trying to digest her words. Then it sank in: he was going to be a father. He gave a shout of joy, which neither had even known was possible to come from an Elf, and swept her up in his arms, twirling her about and kissing her passionately.  
  
~~~  
  
Dawn looked down at her stomach. She could feel the sharp twinges in her stomach increasing, but did not flinch.  
  
A pool of blood seeped out from beneath her. As the white sheets were stained red, Dawn could feel the life draining out of her. Her baby's life, the little part of Legolas she had inside her slipping away. She waited a few minutes, staring straight up at the ceiling with a faraway look in his eyes until the sensation was over.  
  
She pulled the covers over her to cover the mess of her miscarriage and continued to stare up at the ceiling. No longer were her eyes unfocused, they were now hard and cold. They glittered like harsh green gems in the darkness as she assessed her situation, in the manner of a warrior. Just like her brother taught her. She didn't notice that her hands came up to rest on her chest and she subconsciously clutched at her wedding ring so tightly that if it were made from any metal other than mithril, it may very well have bent.  
  
She was in Sunnydale. She had been brought here willingly by people who claimed to love her, but who had hurt her more than she'd ever thought possible. Feeling betrayed by Legolas at Helm's Deep, a crime long forgiven and almost completely forgotten, seemed so petty in comparison to being ripped out of Middle-Earth to be brought "home" to the Hellmouth. These people were no longer her family. Because of them, her unborn child was dead. They were the enemy.  
  
A tight, icy smile formed on her lips. They didn't have to know that they were the enemy. Estel would be pleased to know how well she was fighting with her brains, instead of just her sword. Though if Me'ahyanda was with her, Dawn didn't discount the idea that she would exact her revenge on her enemy this very night. She shook her head. Idiots. Didn't they know that just because she hadn't been in one of the Heavenly dimensions, that didn't mean she wasn't in Heaven, as she saw it.  
  
She forced herself to focus on the situation at hand. Morning was only a few hours away, and she would have to be ready. She had to have her course of action organised in her mind by then. Priority number one: getting home, Dawn told herself. She refused to believe she belonged here Besides, she couldn't live without Legolas. She needed him, and she would do anything to get him back.  
  
She almost grimaced when she thought of the time differences between Sunnydale and Mirkwood. Three months in hell was a century at home. What if she was too late? What if she couldn't find a way and Legolas forgot her? Dawn cut the thoughts off immediately. It wouldn't do to think like that now. Estel would be disappointed in her if she lost her head now.  
  
She reminded herself of her first priority, and moved on to identifying her second. Less than five seconds passed before she realised she had no other priority. She would see Legolas again or die trying. She only hoped the twins and Arwen would come and take care of him. And Gimli had been due to arrive in Mirkwood within a day of her being taken away, Gimli always knew how to best cater for his Elven friend's moods.  
  
The faint click of the front door closing told her that Spike had come back. She listened to his footsteps as he made his way to the basement. After he'd practically moved in whilst they were facing the First, he'd never really moved out. No matter where else he had to live, it was like an unspoken understanding between them all that the bed in the basement belonged to Spike.  
  
Dawn squeezed her eyes shut tight at the thought of the blond-haired, blue-eyed immortal downstairs. Despite his innate darkness, he was so much like Legolas, something she'd never realised in all her years in Middle- Earth. But it had hit her with an amazing force tonight. Aside from the similar physical traits, which had been the primary reason she'd reacted so badly on really looking at him earlier that night, there were many personality traits the Vampire and the Elf shared. A lethal warrior, a force not to be reckoned with, and a passionate lover, who gave his entire heart and soul over to emotion. They didn't just love, they loved with all they had. Dawn bit her lip. She wanted Legolas so badly right now.  
  
Again, she turned her thoughts to a more practical avenue. She had to get home, but the others couldn't help her because she didn't want to tell them where she had been. They'd treat her like she was made of glass, like they'd tried to treat Buffy after resurrecting her that time. And that had gone so well. Honestly, did these people never learn?  
  
She was alone in this. She had to tread carefully, Dawn knew she couldn't let on to them that anything was wrong with her being here. She had to make them think she was fine so they'd give her the space she'd need for her research. And she had no idea how long it would take until she found a way home. Once she had that, she didn't care what the people around her knew, what they thought. She'd do whatever it would take to get back to Mirkwood, and never give Sunnydale and its inhabitants a backwards glance.  
  
The sun was rising. Dawn's room was becoming lighter around her. Slowly, the house stirred into life. Dawn listened as Buffy, Willow and Tara got up and began to move about, eventually heading downstairs.  
  
She waited until they had all gone down before getting up herself. She stared down at the pool of blood she had lain in all night for what felt like the longest time, before firmly covering it over with the quilt. She would deal with the mess later, when she had some time alone.  
  
She showered quickly and dressed in black jeans and a black tank top, fighting the urge to braid her hair in the Elvish fashion as a sign of her rank of Princess. She left her hair loose and steeled herself in the mirror.  
  
"Showtime," she whispered almost maliciously to her cold reflection.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Uh-oh. Showtime? Stay tuned for a glimpse back at the Mirkwood clan, and piles and piles of angst. Did I mention the angst? ~Anoron. 


	4. Chapter 4: Fear and Futility

Sigh. I don't own anything. Now that I'm completely depressed, are you happy? Thanks again to all who reviewed the last chapter, I know you've all got concerns about where this is heading, but please trust me. There is a story to be told here, granted, not a story we wanna hear, but still a story. Um, I guess I owe everybody an explanation as to why Dawn has regressed into 'spoilt brat' status again. The way I see it, she reacts much worse than Buffy at being brought back because she has no purpose in Sunnydale. At least Buffy had slaying to cling on to, a reason for her to be there, but, as Galadriel told Dawn in Ilfirin Meleth, she has nothing left to use her power for. And Dawn has always been more than just a little rash, and her moods are more often than not off the scale, so if I went overboard conveying that, I'm sorry. But again I stress to please trust me, I am doing my best to get the pain of this story across to you and you never know what tomorrow, or the next chapter, will bring. Please don't stop reviewing me with your concerns, I am flattered that you all put so much thought into what I've written not only in this fic, but to actually have such a strong knowledge of its prequel as well really amazes me. Now, just as a warning Legolas will be departing for a while shortly with only a few more brief appearances for now, but don't lose hope yet. But here's a little Mirkwood action that I hope will tide you over.. . . . . .  
  
CHAPTER FOUR- FEAR AND FUTILITY  
  
The Palace was a flurry of energy. Within an hour of Dawn's sudden disappearance, the whole Kingdom had been notified and the frantic search was on. Large groups of Mirkwood's finest warriors and trackers had been dispatched in every direction, and though none dared speak the words aloud, most suspected their search would be futile. Messages were immediately sent to Rivendell, where the three children of Elrond still resided, and to Estel's children in Gondor, pleading for assistance.  
  
Legolas and Thranduil had not slept since the incident, they paced the Throne Room impatiently. Legolas had needed to be physically restrained on more than one occasion from fleeing the Kingdom to conduct his own wild search.  
  
Gimli had arrived that morning, in the midst of all the confusion and the second he'd learned of Dawn's disappearance he'd rushed straight to his friend's side, swearing by the grace of the Lady Galadriel that if he found the culprits responsible, he's tear them limb from limb with Mr. Choppy, his favourite axe as named by Dawn.  
  
Legolas smiled wanly at his friend, grateful for the show of support. "She just disappeared," he moaned, burying his head in his hands.  
  
A heavy Dwarf hand settled on his shoulder. "She will be found, Elf. You have no cause to worry, she is tough as any Dwarf I ever knew. Dawn can take care of herself until she is brought home safely."  
  
"I broke my promise, Gimli," Legolas admitted, his heart heavy with the burden of his failure. "I swore I would not let her go, would never abandon her, yet I just let her slip away. I did nothing." A crystal tear sild down his cheek.  
  
Thranduil came again to comfort his son. "Nothing could be done, my son. She was pulled from Mirkwood by forces far stronger than any one living Elf."  
  
Legolas' head snapped up. His eyes flashed as a new thought occurred to him. "Forces stronger than any one living Elf," he repeated. "Magics," he breathed. "Stronger than any one living Elf, and there are no Wizards left in Middle-Earth... someone from Middle-Earth is not behind this devilry."  
  
"Sunnydale," Gimli's grumbling voice, which had only become rougher as his two hundred and fifty years progressed, boomed as he began to follow Legolas' line of thinking.  
  
"The witch?" Thranduil asked, looking to Legolas for confirmation.  
  
"Willow," he clarified. Both Legolas and Thranduil, over the years, had heard practically all of Dawn's life story in great detail, and by Dawn's animated descriptions of her Sunnydale family, they often felt as if they knew them personally.  
  
Legolas shot up, his long legs stretching as he again began to pace the Throne Room. He whirled to face his father. "We must send to Rivendell to hurry them," he insisted.  
  
Much as he wanted to give Legolas the positive action he so desparately needed, Thranduil had to hold up a hand to stay his son. It would only be a waste of valuable resources. "No, Legolas. There is no need. Our fastest messengers are already gone, and Elrond's children will know to bring whatever useful information is at their disposal. We can only wait now."  
  
Legolas deflated. He knew his father was right. The next five days passed with agonising slowness, all thoughts of the trip to Valinor forgotten as the entire Kingdom waited, paying to the Valar for the safe return of their Princess. Occasionally, messengers would come from one of the scouting groups only to report that they had found no trace of the missing Princess.  
  
Finally, three dark-haired Elves rode to the Palace, coming straight to the Throne Room without a moment's hesitation. Arwen ran to Legolas and embraced him warmly. She knew the pain of losing your love all too well, and if not for the support of her family, which very much included Dawn and Legolas, she would not have survived the loss of her husband. She was determined that Legolas not suffer through this ordeal alone.  
  
Elladan and Elrohir wasted no time. The twins each laid a heavy book on the table before Thranduil and Gimli, who raised their eyebrows in question. As soon as Legolas was no longer detained by his friend so of many milennia that she was like a sister, he came to the table, ready to hear everything and anything his friends could tell him.  
  
It was Elladan who began at once, knowing his friend would not wish to waste time with pleasantries. Time enough for such attentions when Dawn was home safe and sound. "These books our father warned us of, many years ago. They, and they alone contain the knowledge of portals and other worlds. The moment we heard of Dawn... we knew our only hope lies within these pages. We have not yet looked, we though it best not to waste the time before travelling here."  
  
Thranduil nodded slowly. "We have had word from Eldarion," he informed them. Eldarion, Aragorn and Arwen's oldest son, was King of Gondor and he had written to Mirkwood, offering all of Gondor's support and swearing his best loremasters were pouring over all the books in Minas Tirith.  
  
"What says my nephew?" Elrohir asked, looking up from the book he and Legolas were already studying.  
  
"They have no good news to send, but they will do all they can to aid us," Thranduil responded.  
  
The five Elves and the Dwarf did not rest until both the thick books had been studied cover to cover, in minute detail, for any information whatsoever that could lead them to Dawn. They came up empty.  
  
Legolas threw himself into a chair gracelessly. Again despair overtook him. Dawn had now been gone a full week and nobody in Middle- Earth had any way of finding her.  
  
"Maybe something will turn up in Gondor," Elrohir suggested, trying in vain to bouy the flagging spirits of the group. "Minas Tirith has the greatest Library known to Men, perhaps there is somthing there Father did not know of."  
  
"It is possible," Elladan chimed in, picking up on his brother's intentions.  
  
"Grandmother sent a great many texts to the city when the reign of Elessar began," Arwen remembered. "I am sure Father could not possibly know of every parchment and book in all of Lorien and Gondor. Something must turn up somewhere."  
  
"And if it doesn't?" Legolas countered. None knew how to answer his question.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Well there it is, the Elven version of chaos. As always, feed me with reviews, good or bad, flames are welcome because it is winter in Aus and fire is warm, and I will be happy and be updating-girl. ~Anoron. 


	5. Chapter 5: Blood Ties

Here we go again.. Unfortunately, I still don't own these characters, I only own the messed up things they all do in this fic. Side note- FINALLY saw the last ep of Buffy two days ago. Does anyone else think that it was the most hell-it funny episode since early season 4 (Something Blue)????? Shrug, I just thought it was hilarious at times is all. All hail King Joss. And I guess I'd better send a shout out to King Tolkien while I'm at it.. Right then, on with the show, as always, looking forward to your reviews. ~Anoron. . . . .  
  
CHAPTER FIVE- BLOOD TIES  
  
She moved down into the kitchen, where the three women were gathered with Xander and Spike. The mortals were having breakfast. Dawn forced a smile on her face, but the smile failed to reach her eyes.  
  
"Morning, everyone," she called as she walked into the room.  
  
Everyone looked up and greeted her with too much enthusiasm. "Morning Dawny!" Willow, Xander and Buffy all chimed in simultaneously.  
  
"G-good morning," Tara stammered half a second later.  
  
She sat on a stool, ignoring the lameness of their greeting. She purposely did not look at Spike. "So what's going on today?" she asked.  
  
Buffy looked a little surprised at Dawn's forthrightness. Before, Dawn had always sat back and waited for someone else to ask questions and make plans. Dawn had always just been told what to do, and she had done it. Well, mostly she had just done it. She was a teenager, after all. Buffy smiled to cover up her startled reaction. "Well, we were all going to take the day off, spend some time with you. We thought after breakfast we'd take you to the Magic Box to see Giles. Would you like that? Does that sound good?"  
  
The Princess and the warrior in Dawn was furious with the patronising tone her sister took with her, but she forced herself to remain calm and calculating. She had to keep her head to win this battle. She shook her head.  
  
"No. You guys have responsibilities to keep. I'd never forgive myself if anyone got fired, or missed something important on my behalf. And Giles will be busy with the shop all day. We can go tonight, after you've all finished work."  
  
"Dawny I'm not leaving you here alone!" Buffy replied immediately.  
  
Dawn smiled again. She wondered if anyone could actually see how empty her smiles were. How dead she knew her green eyes had become. "Won't be alone, Buffy," she said, indicating Spike without looking at him. "Spike will be here, in case I need anyone. Which I won't. I'm kinda just looking forward to a quiet day, after everything that's gone on."  
  
Spike thought he caught a distinctly bitter tone creeping into her voice as she spoke her next words. "Besides, we have all the time in the world now."  
  
Buffy studied her a minute. "Ok, if you're sure. We'll go to Giles tonight."  
  
Within five minutes, the house had virtually emptied, leaving Dawn alone with Spike. She cringed inwardly. That part of the plan hadn't been thought through too well, she admonished herself. She didn't think she could handle having someone so like her husband so close to her, and with no escape. She hoped he'd head back downstairs to the basement soon and leave her alone.  
  
She started clearing up the others' breakfast things, trying to act as normal as possible. She moved around the kitchen, deliberately avoiding looking at Spike, and refusing to meet his eyes whenever her own eyes happened to fall on him.  
  
Spike watched her, sensing her disquiet, and debated whether or not to speak. Finally, he said in a low voice, "I'm sorry I didn't save you."  
  
The bowl Dawn had been holding clattered to the bench. An image of Legolas flashed before her mind, and she whispered the words, "Save me."  
  
To Spike it was an echo of his own words, but to Dawn, it was a desperate plea, one she knew would never be answered. Spike stared as Dawn clutched at a strange silver ring on her finger, one he had never seen before. It was beautiful and intricately engraved, and appeared to be a symbol of some description. He wondered why nobody had noticed it last night.  
  
"What's that?" he asked.  
  
"Nothing," Dawn replied, a little too quickly. But her face blanched as she said it, and her eyes filled with pain at her own lie. She felt like she had just betrayed Legolas. The ring was everything to her, it was all she had left of Middle-Earth, of him. She bit her lip and composed her face into an expressionless mask, but it was too late. Spike had already seen.  
  
"Don't lie to me," Spike said softly.  
  
She looked at the band. Her voice was flat. "It's my wedding ring."  
  
Spike almost laughed. "Pfft- you aren't married, Nibblet," he scoffed at her.  
  
Dawn looked up and glared into his eyes with contempt. As he met her gaze, her eyes told him how clueless he was. An insignificant, stupid vampire who had no idea what was going on in front of his very eyes, even. Dawn exuded the air of a Princess with such force that Spike almost took a step back.  
  
Spike was silent for a minute, contemplating the look Dawn had given him. He was beginning to sense that something was seriously amiss in the Scooby Gang's logic in their plan to resurrect Dawn. Finally, he demanded, "Where were you, Dawn?"  
  
Dawn took a deep breath and began to speak. There was something about Spike that made her want to confide in him. Probably that he was her best friend in this world, before she'd died, and that he was so like Legolas. And she'd already gathered from the snatches of conversation she'd bothered listening to last night that he was not pro-resurrection. Her voice was flat and emotionless. "I was in Middle-Earth. Mirkwood, to be exact. I'm immortal- key power- and I spent the last century married to an Elf Prince... Legolas," she whispered the name.  
  
"You love him?" Spike asked, although from the way she clasped at her wedding ring, he already knew the answer.  
  
Dawn met his eyes squarely. "With all my heart. After I jumped from the tower, I went through the portal, was sent to Middle-Earth by the PTB to keep 'fighting the good fight', as we do, and I joined the Fellowship, which Legolas was a part of. Long story short, we went to war against evil, we fought and we won. Then we got married in front of all our friends and I was an unbelievably happy Princess every day after that."  
  
"Princess, huh?" Spike tried to keep his voice even, but his heart was breaking. Since the day he'd sworn to protect her, and even before, since she'd been 'the Key', Dawn had been his Little Bit. Her safety meant everything, and somewhere along the way, that had grown to include her happiness. He hated himself for his weakness, agreeing to the plan to resurrect Dawn because he couldn't let go of his guilt at failing to protect her.  
  
He opened his mouth to apologise, but changed his mind. He knew as well as she did that being sorry now would do them no good. There was never any point to apoligies between the two of them, it was always something better left unsaid. He stared at her, unsure of what to do.  
  
Dawn touched his hand lightly. "Promise me something Spike? Swear to me, right now, that you won't tell the others what I just said to you."  
  
Spike looked apprehensive for a minute, and Dawn was worried, though no emotion showed. If he refused, and told the others what they'd done, they'd cling to her in their guilt. And as much as Dawn sadistically enjoyed the idea of them tormenting themselves so, she knew she'd never be able to find her way home with them hovering over her every second. And every second away from Legolas counted.  
  
"It would kill them to know. Buffy would never forgive herself," she said softly, knowing it was emotional blackmail of Spike's love for her sister, but not really caring. She was still at war, here.  
  
Spike wrestled with the decision a minute while Dawn watched with an unfaltering gaze. Finally, the vampire gave her a lopsided grin. "Your wish is my command, my Princess."  
  
Dawn smirked. "I'll hold you to that, y'know," she said dryly. Spike knew she wasn't kidding, but he didn't mind. He hadn't entirely been joking himself: he would do anything for Dawn, now that he knew what she was going through, and he wasn't too upset with the idea of not having to hurt Buffy with his knowledge, either.  
  
"You look so much like him," Dawn whispered out of the blue, startling them both.  
  
Spike looked at her and frowned. She refused to meet his eyes, staring steadfastly at the far wall until he averted his gaze. Then his nose wrinkled in confusion. Was that blood he was smelling?  
  
Dawn curtly walked out of the room when she realised what was happening with Spike's vampire senses. He was about to discover her miscarriage, just another thing she couldn't seem to keep hidden from him.  
  
Sensing there was something else very wrong with Dawn, Spike followed her even pace up the stairs and into her room. Without even thinking about it, she moved over and drew the curtains closed so Spike could enter. His nose, always susceptible to the rich scent of blood, led him straight to the bed.  
  
Meeting the vampire's eyes squarely, Dawn reached over and with one sharp pull, relieved the bed of its covers.  
  
Spike stared down at the pool of blood soaked deep into the sheets. A look of complete horror crept over his face. "What is this, Bit?" his raspy voice whispered.  
  
Dawn stared down at the crimson stains blankly. "Was my baby... Legolas'... our baby. Not anymore though. They took that away, they killed it." Hatred and anger coloured her tones, though none of her vehemence registered in her face, which was once so bright and expressive it used to make Spike want to laugh with just a look.  
  
Dawn drifted over to curl up in a chair by the window, staring at nothing, lost in her thoughts. It had been so easy to let Spike in, so natural. Or was she just too weak to resist? Was she too terrified to be alone? More importantly, could she let him in on her plan? Would he help her? She wasn't quite game enough to take that last chance on him yet.  
  
"Well then, guess you'll need a hand with clearing this lot up, huh Princess?" Spike finally said, moving to rip the sheets from the mattress.  
  
"Tarien," she corrected absently.  
  
"What now?"  
  
"Tarien. That's my title in Mirkwood. The Elvish word for Princess is Tarien."  
  
"All right- Tarien it is."  
  
A few minutes later Spike had rid the bed of its soiled bedclothes and replaced them with fresh sheets found in Dawn's closet. There was a small bloodstain on the mattress, but there was nothing Spike could do about it, so he had covered it over as best he could. He gathered the bloodied linen in a bundle.  
  
"I'll, uh, take care of this for you if you like."  
  
"Hannon lle," came the soft response.  
  
"Now I know what that's gotta mean. And you're welcome, Tarien. If there's anything I can do... Well, you know the rest, Bit."  
  
Spike turned and left before she could respond. "Yeah, there is. I wanna go home," she told the empty room.  
  
* * * * * . . . . PS- Thanks to all of you who have faith in me telling this story. I know it's disturbing, and it's only gonna get worse, but I'm glad you all seem to be willing to wait and see how it goes before you vomit all over it. ~Anoron. 


	6. Chapter 6: Dear Lord

I own nothing here, it's all Joss Whedon's and JRR Tolkien's, ok? And hey, here comes Giles..! .  
  
.  
  
.  
  
CHAPTER SIX- DEAR LORD  
  
"Dear Lord."  
  
"I should've put money on you saying that," Dawn commented. As soon as they had all finished their respective jobs for the day, the Scoobies had congregated at the Summers residence to take Dawn to the Magic Box to see Giles.  
  
Giles smiled at the young girl's apparently flippant remark before gathering her up in his arms for a fatherly hug. Dawn accepted the hug and offered him a small smile. Giles looked deep into her eyes, as if he could sense something off in Dawn, so she swept him up in an exuberent embrace which flustered the Englishman.  
  
He led Dawn over to the table, gesturing her into a seat. "Can I make you some tea?"  
  
"No, I'm fine. Just wanted to stop by and say hi," Dawn responded dryly.  
  
Buffy frowned at her sister. "Dawn, I really don't think that's funny."  
  
"Do you see me laughing?" came the deadpan reply.  
  
The others watched in confusion, worried by the frosty tone Dawn had taken with them. When they really thought about it, all Dawn's words and actions had been lukewarm at best. They all exchanged glances, a silent agreement to discuss Dawn's behaviour later.  
  
Dawn herself sat oblivious to the attention. She started flipping though a book, almost as if she was bored and looking for some light reading material. The second she realised, though, while 'casually' scanning the contents, that the book had nothing to do with interdimensional portals or activities, she snapped the book shut. A quick glance up told her that the others had been scrutinising her behaviour.  
  
With a casual shrug, she told them, "That book didn't look so interesting after all."  
  
"They're never interesting, sweetie," Tara smiled gently at her, trying to make a light joke. "We just read them because we have to sometimes."  
  
Dawn looked away stonily. Tara's sweetness had had her for a moment, but then the quiet Wicca had to go and say something so infuriatingly patronising. With her natural intuition, Tara sensed the frostiness in the atmosphere suddenly directed a little her way and paled. She hadn't meant to upset Dawn, she only wanted to make her feel at ease. The others noticed the exchange and grimaced to themselves. Buffy didn't like to admit it, but, besides Spike, Tara, not her, was her sister's favourite Scooby. And for Dawn to be anything but full of quiet adoration for the timid girl was truly worrying.  
  
"So... what's going on?" Dawn finally asked, after a moment or two of uncertain silence. "Vamps, demons, other big nasties?"  
  
"No, no," Giles hurried to assure her, as if to soothe any fears she might have. As if she was still a child. As if she wasn't over fifty years older than him now.  
  
"We've mostly been concentrating on getting you back," Buffy admitted.  
  
At the confession, a new ally through which to attack occurred to Dawn. "How *did* you bring me back? I mean, I thought that special Urn thingy you used to bring Buffy back was broken, and, um, disposable. And the only way to bring back the dead without heading into zombie-ville. So how did you... how did you do it?" she faltered at the last second and broke off, sure that if she kept going she would end up demanding how they could be so cruel.  
  
Willow, resurrection extraordinare, fielded the question. "Are you sure you wanna know, Dawny?" she asked, far too gently for Dawn's liking.  
  
"Tell me," she demanded, a hard edge in her voice suggesting she had not been denied so easily over the last century.  
  
"Uh, ok," the redhead stammered a little. "Well, there's more than one vessel through which to channel energies and such, and basically it was the same spell we used for Buffy only with another Urn- the Urn of Cyrus."  
  
"After Tara's whizzy little Aura-Scan, of course," Xander piped up with a big grin. "Didn't wanna be pulling the wrong thing outta the wrong place, huh Dawnster?"  
  
Dawn was nodding, but it was more to herself than in response to Xander's comments. The same spell, she mused. That meant there was no way of reversing it... only there was.  
  
"Hey!" she cried aloud. "What about the trade-off? Like how when Buffy came back, that demony thing came with her... What about that?" By her figuring, whatever the universe's trade-off was would be looking for her, since to kill her would be the only way for it to become corporeal in this dimension. And, hey, Dawn figured. She wasn't going to stop it from sending her back where she came from. Let the Scoobies clean up the mess then.  
  
"Nope, already took care of it," Willow responded smugly. "Remember the Urn of Istar? Spike used to use it as an ash tray, which used to drive Anya nuts? Well, we sent the trade-off demon into that and just vamoosed it away. Problem solved."  
  
"Great," Dawn replied sarcastically. She wondered if. any moment now, they were goning to chain her down with Spike's shackles as well, just to make extra sure she couldn't get away. She stayed silent for the rest of the evening, lost in her own thoughts and plans. Every now and then her eyes strayed to the loft of the Magic Box, where all the most powerful and dangerous supplies were kept. She hadn't come on a midnight excursion to the store since she was fourteen, and she decided it was high time she tried it again one of these days. Surely Giles would have something on interdimensional movement up there somewhere.  
  
When Buffy insisted it was time they took her home, Giles smiled warmly at Dawn. He clasped her by her shoulders and gazed steadily at her. "It is good to see you, Dawn."  
  
There was such sincerity in his voice that Dawn could not doubt Giles, so she nodded and let him kiss her cheek. He had no part in causing her pain and she would not hate him for what others had done.  
  
Immortal as she was, Dawn was still no Elf, and her sleepless night the night before was beginning to take its toll on her. The second her head hit her pillow, she drifted off into sleep. She didn't even bother to answer Spike, who had slipped up to her room to ask her how her meeting with Giles went.  
  
As Dawn lapsed into dreams, the Scooby Gang gathered in the living room. Spike was coming down the stairs as Buffy began to speak.  
  
"I think there's something wrong with her," the Slayer admitted, a quiet sadness ringing through her voice.  
  
"No, sweetie, she'll be fine," Tara, ever the peace-keeper, placed a reassuring hand on Buffy's knee.  
  
"Yeah, Buffy. I mean, we knew it wouldn't be easy for her. Hundred years of torture in hell, that's gotta have some side-effects," Xander reasoned.  
  
"Buffy we'll figure it out. I mean, whatever she's gone through, we can take it away given time. We can erase whatever that other dimension did to her," Willow promised. She and Tara had already been skimming through a few texts which dealt with post interdimensional travel issues. So far though, they hadn't come up with anything that could help Dawn. And Willow had well and truly learned her lesson with using forgetting spells.  
  
With his deeper knowledge of Dawn's whereabouts over the last century, Spike glowered as he listened to Willow's words, innocently as they were intended. He opened his mouth to tell her soundly off, but was stopped short by the memory of his promise to the Little Bit. Buffy, however, noticed the change in Spike's demeanour and the movement of his mouth.  
  
"Spike? You got something to say?" she asked.  
  
"No," Spike responded quickly. He didn't want Buffy to pressure him. He hated himself for his weakness when it came to the Slayer, but if she asked something of him, he had never been able to deny her long. "I got nothing."  
  
"What a surprise," Xander spat. Spike glared at him.  
  
"So, for now we wait," Buffy broke in with a sigh. "We let her deal with this and we be there for her. What else can we do?"  
  
* * * * *  
  
~~~  
In her room, Dawn closed her eyes. When she opened them again, all was well in the world. Because she was in the right world. The greenery of Mirkwood rustled around her, the soothing wind whispering to her. Legolas stood before her. He looked the same, yet different.  
  
He was a little thinner, if that was indeed possible for such a lithe Elf, and his eyes had lost some of their sparkle. He was alone, and he looked lonely. But when she appeared before him, he smiled and the whole universe brightened along with him.  
  
"Legolas," Dawn breathed, throwing herself into his arms. He locked her up in his embrace as if he would never let her go, not this time, and Dawn snuggled into him. She knew it was just a dream and she never wanted to wake up.  
  
"I'm here, Dawn. Always right here, Melamin. Lye naa ten'oio," he swore. [We are forever]  
  
Dawn turned her face up to his, feeling the warmth flood back into her body as he kissed her. Still she knew she was dreaming, but she would take this dream over the empty coldness that awaited her when she was inevitably forced to open her eyes.  
  
"Amin merna lle ikotane..." Dawn moaned, missing him already, despite the fact that she was dreaming of him right in front of her. [I want you so...]  
  
"I know," Legolas sighed. "Me too, Dawn. Remember- ten'oio." ~~~  
  
Dawn snapped out of her dream and felt the cold surge back into her heart.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Hungry for reviews. Again. Feed me, please! ~Anoron. 


	7. Chapter 7: Acceptance AKA Being Alone

I don't own Dawn, Legolas or any of their friends and family. I just take sadistic pleasure in torturing them. Also, I think my chapters are a little short. Sorry bout that, I'm trying to get as much as I can into them but this story isn't coming together quite so easily as the first did. I'll get it, though, it's like a vendetta!! Love it or hate it, review and let me know! . . .  
  
CHAPTER SEVEN- ACCEPTANCE A.K.A. BEING ALONE  
  
A year. A year had passed, and a year they had waited, searched, prayed for Dawn. A year they had hoped in vain. Scouts were continually out, messages poured in from all corners of Middle-Earth, but nobody had caught even the slightest trace of Dawn. And time was starting to move on without her.  
  
People were starting to move on without her, and Legolas could not deny it. He was surrounded by loved ones, his father and Gimli had not yet sailed for the Undying Lands, and Arwen, Elladan and Elrohir had all but moved to Mirkwood from Rivendell.  
  
He watched them as they ate their breakfast. They tried to be quiet and sombre for his sake, but under the surface, they all bubbled with life. Even Gimli, who every day came closer and closer to death's door, had a strong spirit still surging within him.  
  
"It's time for you to go," he said, startling those around him.  
  
"Time for whom to go, my son?" Thranduil asked with concern, wondering what Legolas had meant.  
  
"All of you. You've all got things to move on with. Atar, I think you and Gimli should make for Valinor as soon as the preparations can be made."  
  
"What?" Gimli muttered. "Look, Elf, if you think I am going to leave you behind after all you've gone through-"  
  
"You'd better," Legolas interrupted, his eyes suddenly widening as they shone with unshed tears. He began to babble, his voice straining as he tried to believe his own words.  
  
"Dawn's going to be home. Someday. Soon. And when you're not here, she'll want to know where you are. And if I have to tell her that you've died your mortal death and are not awaiting us in Valinor, she will be very angry with me that I've let you die here. And after she was so looking forward to seeing you again!"  
  
"Are you sure?" Thranduil asked. If Legolas was truly ready to move on, then he knew it could only be a positive thing for his son. And, he well knew, his duties as King would more than keep him occupied, if nothing else.  
  
"Yes Atar. It is time."  
  
Arwen covered her friend's hand, noting the tinge of dark skin that stained the usually fair complexion just beneath his eyes. He was not sleeping. Still. "We at least will not leave, Legolas. No matter what you say, I am determined to be here as a friend and confidant for as long as you need me."  
  
"Yes. Mirkwood has far better hunting than Rivendell, in any event," Elrohir piped up with a mischievous grin. "Though I must beg you, King Thranduil, not to advertise my opinion to my own father once you reach the Undying Lands."  
  
"Thank you," Legolas responded to his friends with a half-hearted smile. It helped him to think that he would have another Elf around who understood something of loss, as Arwen did.  
  
Now satisfied that Legolas would be taken care of in his absence, Thranduil nodded. "Well, I make it that we can be ready to leave Mirkwood within the week," he estimated. "So I shall set your coronation five days from now. Congratulations, Legolas, you will make a fine King."  
  
Legolas nodded his thanks, but did not smile at his father. The King in waiting was too busy thinking about his absent Queen.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Dawn awoke and found herself staring straight at a plush toy perched on the bed next to her. A grotesquely bright coloured stuffed fish named Victor that seemed to gloat in the empty sunlight staining her room. Feeling a surge of anger just knowing she had woken up in Sunnydale, Dawn's arm shot out.  
  
Reeling from the force of the punch, Victor flew across the room, hitting the far wall with a thud. Feeling slightly. . . worse, Dawn sat up. Despite the eternally warm California weather, she shivered a little from the cold she felt. She'd heard stories of couples who had been married so long that to spend even one night away from each other, they were too cold to sleep without the warmth of their love's body pressed against them. She'd never really believed those stories could be true, until now.  
  
Even a scalding hot shower that left ugly burns all over her body could not warm her up and Dawn went down to the kitchen still feeling stone cold. Even though she'd used the last of the hot water and if she let any more of the boiling water touch her skin, she'd probably blister from the heat, Dawn took one look at the family having breakfast and wished she could be back under the faucet again.  
  
"So what do you wanna do today, sweetheart?" Buffy asked. "How about you come visit me at work?" After the school had been sucked into the Hellmouth, Sunnydale High had been relocated to a less often demolished area of town and Buffy regained her counselling job.  
  
"You want me to go back? To high school?" Dawn asked, incredulous. She'd never even gotten over the fact that Buffy had gone back to that place willingly, let alone considered returning herself. There was only one place in the universe she wanted to consider going back to. She wrinkled her nose and looked around at the, as usual, fairly messy house. "I think I'll stay here, do some cleaning up."  
  
Tara grimaced. "I guess it has been a while," she admitted, wondering what it must be like for Dawn to come home to such a mess, after everything she'd already been through.  
  
"Oh, ok," Buffy looked a little hurt. She'd been expecting Dawn would follow her around like she had as a kid, always wanting to be where Buffy got to be, and doing whatever Buffy got to do. Actually, Buffy had been hoping Dawn would cling to her, at least that way she could keep an eye on her sister, maybe get her to start acting normally somehow.  
  
"Well, that's good," Buffy forced herself to perk up. "We really aren't so great with the domestics around here, but I guess you always knew that, huh Dawny?"  
  
Dawn didn't bother to respond. She walked out of the kitchen and plopped down on the couch. She snatched up the remote and channel-surfed until the house was emptied, save for one peroxided vampire asleep in the basement.  
  
As soon as she heard Xander's car speed off down the street, she switched off the television and jumped up. She had work to do. She spent four hours scouring the internet for any possible sources of information on portals, but came up with nothing useful but a headache from staring at the screen too long.  
  
She took a break to let her eyes adjust, using the time to make a half-hearted attempt at tidying up to keep the Scoobies off her back, and then went upstairs to look through all of Willow and Tara's magic books. After scanning the contents of every one of the Wiccans' volumes, she still found no clues as to how to get home.  
  
She snapped the last book closed in frustration. She felt her breathing get ragged as she became more and more distressed. There had to be some way of getting home, but for the life of her she couldn't find it. What if she never did. . .  
  
Dawn took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. Panicking would get her nowhere, she needed to clear her head. She slipped down the hall to her own room, locking the door behind her before settling on the bed, legs crossed.  
  
Closing her eyes, she tried to clear her mind and fall into her meditative state that Tara had taught her so long ago. All she needed was to see Legolas, perhaps replay her wedding day so she could not only relive the happiest day of her life, but she could also see all her long-lost Middle-Earth family. The family she didn't associate with pain and betrayal. She searched and searched for her relaxed place, the place that let her slip into meditation and visions so she could manipulate them to her will, but she could not find it.  
  
"Damn them! It's their fault," Dawn seethed, thinking of the Scoobies. "They destroyed my balance and now I can't even focus my energy. It's like they want everything!"  
  
A sudden knock at the door startled Dawn. She flew to her feet, settling into a defensive stance.  
  
"Hey, Tarien, you ok in there pet?" a British voice called through the door. The door handle rattled, but remained closed due to the lock.  
  
"Yeah Spike, I'm ok," she called back, snapping the door unlocked.  
  
The door swung open and Spike peered at Dawn's face. "Then why were you yelling a minute ago?"  
  
Dawn shrugged non-committally, clearing all her emotions away. "Just trying to get something to work. Did you want something."  
  
"Not particularly," he replied, lounging against the door frame.  
  
Dawn, meanwhile had slipped into the Elvish tongue and began to pace about her room as she worked through her plans and worries aloud. "Sinadome amin utuuva mani anta, i'kard en templa, re'na ron ilya kaima. Amin cael'a. . ." [Tonight I will find what I need at the house of magic (a/n, closest I could find to Magic Shop. . . the Magic Box) while they all sleep. I have to. . .]  
  
"Uh, pet?" Spike was frowning at her. "You're talking jibberish, luv."  
  
"No, I'm speaking Elvish," Dawn corrected.  
  
"Right. I'm not too up on my *Elvish*," he admitted, deliberately placing extra emphasis on naming her language correctly. "Guess you'll have to teach me."  
  
Dawn looked at him suspiciously. "Why do you want to learn Elvish?"  
  
Spike gave her one of his devilish grins. "So I can tell the difference between Elvish and jibberish."  
  
* * * * * . . All hail King Legolas. Poor, lonely King Legolas, I wonder how his Queen will get back to him.? I know I'm evil. Review and tell me anyway! ~Anoron. 


	8. Chapter 8: Crimes and Misdemeanours

Nope, don't own it. Yep, I really wish I did. Especially Spike, who doesn't want to own Spike? Here's a little proactive Dawn, let's see how far she gets for her troubles this time. . . . . . .  
  
CHAPTER EIGHT- CRIMES AND MISDEMEANOURS  
  
She climbed down the trellis, vaguely remembering the confused fourteen year old girl who had done the same so long ago. All that remained of the girl in Dawn was the thirst for answers, and the destination where she expected to find them.  
  
When she was not met with one lurking vampire, as she'd half expected, she turned towards the Magic Box, moving through the night with such stealth that the shadow of a figure following her had to use all his powers to keep up. Dawn reached the store and spent a few minutes jimmying the lock, just as she'd seen done once before and was soon enough inside the building.  
  
Making absolutely sure the blinds were shut tight against any light that could escape into the street, Dawn flicked on a lamp. The faint glow was enough to see by and she scaled the ladder to the loft where all the dangerous books and artefacts were kept with ease.  
  
The bell on the door tinkled. Dawn whirled, already taking a fighting stance.  
  
"Sodding bell!" Spike swore at the offending noisemaker as it went off again when he closed the door.  
  
As soon as she saw the shock of bright blond hair and heard the distinct British accent, Dawn relaxed. Without even acknowledging Spike, she turned back to her work. Spike took his cue from Dawn, and wordlessly her joined her, scouring the books for information.  
  
For three hours, they worked in complete silence. But then Dawn was tiring and she knew she needed to get back to the house before she was discovered. To go through every possible source of knowledge was going to take quite a few nights.  
  
Coming to a decision, Dawn abruptly stood and made her way to the door. She waited for Spike to join her. As soon as he'd extinguished the lamp that was burning, Spike motioned that it was safe for her to open the door.  
  
Dawn vanished into the cool night, lost to Spike's sight. He stayed inside a few moments longer, double-checking that they had left no signs of their little visit. He slipped out the door, locking it behind him, and turned into the night to find where Dawn was waiting for him.  
  
"Nibblet!"  
  
There she was, in the middle of the street, surrounded by fledgling vampires. Dawn had seen them coming long before the hungry pack had even known she was there. There had been plenty of time to pull her stake out of its place tucked under her belt, more than enough time to alert Spike so the pair of seasoned fighters could take the vampires before they knew what hit them. But Dawn had done neither of these things.  
  
Instead she had felt a cold settle over and within her, her heart froze as an icy hand seemed to squeeze at the organ so hardened by her pain. Without a single intelligible thought or feeling known to her, Dawn walked out into the middle of the main street, bathed in the street lights, and waited for the vampires to spot her and advance.  
  
Not believing their luck, the vampires didn't hesitate to proceed towards their easy meal. There were five of them, all in their game faces and circling Dawn like sharks. They seemed to have forgotten Spike for the moment, since he hadn't moved from just outside the Magic Box doorway.  
  
He was watching Dawn ignoring the predators that were stalking closer and closer to her. She stood alone, staring up at the sky, as if she was waiting for them, daring them even, to strike. Spike knew the look in Dawn's eyes all too well, it was the death wish of a Slayer, if he had ever seen it.  
  
Spike reached into his duster pocket and pulled out a stake, prepared to sweep into the fray in an undead heartbeat. They pack of fledglings had completely closed in on Dawn now, and one was even reaching out to grasp her neck roughly.  
  
Dawn felt them closing in but did not stir. Her eyes were directed upwards, as if her salvation lay somewhere in the atmosphere, and the stars would spell it out to her if she just stood still long enough. Or perhaps the moon would whisper it to her... like Spike told her once that it did to Drusilla.  
  
"Nibblet!"  
  
She heard his voice cry out for her, but it seemed just a little too far for her to reach. And she wondered how easy would it be to just let it slip away, let it all slip away into oblivion. She could *feel* the closest vampire reach out for her neck. It would only be microseconds now...  
  
The threatening vampire exploded into dust. The remaining four jumped back, startled. They barely had time to wonder where their meal had procured the stake resting in her hand from before they were attacked from both fronts, as Spike joined in the fun.  
  
He staked two from behind before they could spin around to protect themselves and looked to Dawn to check on her. From his blind side, a fist came crashing into his nose and Spike was knocked off balance. He engaged in fisticuffs with the offending vampire, finally manage to gain the upper hand enough to turn his opponent into a pile of dust.  
  
The last remaining vampire was giving Dawn a lot of trouble. She was ducking and dodging its blows, but the stake seemed a little awkward in her hand, and she couldn't mount any decent offensives. She wasted a moment longing for her old Lothlorien-crafted sword from the quest, Me'ahyanda, and a cold vampire fist connected with her jaw.  
  
Dawn crumpled to the ground and looked up to see the vampire erupt into a pile of dust, revealing another vampire standing behind it, stake in hand. Spike glared down at Dawn, the anger and worry in his blue eyes piercing through her.  
  
"What the bloody hell was that, Tarien?" he demanded. "Trying to get yourself killed?"  
  
Shame swept through Dawn. "I don't know," she told Spike, her voice full of quiet contrition.  
  
Softening towards the pathetic-looking creature, Spike held his hand out and pulled her to her feet. Wordlessly, they turned towards the Summers residence, only a short walk away.  
  
"So, guess you're a bit out of practice." Spike, not one to sugar- coat much of anything really, referred to Dawn's lacklustre fighting skills in their mini-battle. "Lost your touch, guess you haven't had much use of a stake lately, huh pet?"  
  
Dawn shrugged, looking off into the night. "Sword, mostly. Knife. Occasionally longbow," she told him.  
  
"How about hand to hand?" he prodded. He hoped for both their sakes it was good for her to talk about her life in Mirkwood.  
  
"Not really. Legolas and I wrestled every now and then, but. . ." she trailed off, more lost in her thoughts and memories than embarrassed by the implications of her words.  
  
Spike was more than willing to finish the sentence for her. "But that little bit of rough and tumble wasn't exactly training-oriented."  
  
"No."  
  
Spike had hoped to draw a blush or a smile, maybe even that cute little girly giggle of old out of her with the remark, but he was disappointed with the flat response. He let it fall, resigned to a quiet walk. To his surprise, as they turned onto Revello (sp?) drive, her wearied voice cut into the silence.  
  
"Spike? How did you know where I was and what I was doing, without my telling you?"  
  
"I know you, don't I now Little Bit? Wouldn't take a genius to figure out what you'd be up to. Besides, vampire, innate ability to track your sweet little scent, remember?"  
  
Silence greeted his explanation. They had reached number 1630, and Dawn went to go out the back and climb the trellis to her room. Her night of researching and generally just hanging on had left her more tired than she realised.  
  
"Hey," Spike stopped her, a hard edge deepening his voice.  
  
Slowly, Dawn turned to look up at him. She hardened her expression, trying desperately not to see her husband in the form before her.  
  
Undeterred, Spike said his piece. "I don't ever, *ever* want to see you so damn close to giving up as I did tonight. You got that, Bit?"  
  
Dawn refused to answer that. She couldn't honestly promise him anything. Instead, she just offered a quick, "Thanks, Spike," and disappeared.  
  
* * * * * . . .. Love it or hate it, let me know what you think, all it takes is hitting that wonderful button that says review. Thanks for those of you who've supported me throughout the writing of this fic, I'm glad so many of you have faith in where I'm going and what I'm doing with these characters and I appreciate all the suggestions. I promise you won't be disappointed! ~Anoron 


	9. Chapter 9: Learning Or Not

Again with the non-ownership of Dawn, Buffy and anything or anyone else that could actually make money. Keep reading, keep reviewing, and I'll keep posting! Actually, I'll keep posting anyway coz I am annoying like that, but I just really want your reviews as well! And in answer to your the question somebody asked (really sorry, I couldn't find your review to catch the name, my bad), but you will not be disappointed, I promise!! Just hold on and keep believing! Things are about to get very interesting. ~Anoron . . .  
  
CHAPTER NINE- LEARNING. . . OR NOT  
  
"Dawny?" Buffy eased open the door to her sister's room and popped her head in. She had been sure that she'd head noises coming from in here just a minute ago.  
  
But there was nothing out of order when Buffy looked around Dawn's room. Dawn slept on, looking so exhausted the Buffy guessed she would have been asleep before her head even hit the pillow. She turned to leave Dawn to rest when her sharp Slayer hearing caught the tiniest sound of surprise coming from Dawn's throat.  
  
Swiftly Buffy crossed the room and knelt at Dawn's bedside. She watched, fascinated, as her sister dreamt of things Buffy couldn't possibly imagine.  
  
"Legolas," Dawn breathed. Buffy frowned and scooted closer to Dawn, trying to listen to the strange words. "No. . ."  
  
~~~  
Dawn found herself in her own living room and wrinkled her forehead in confusion. Legolas was, as she lived for these nights, standing before her, waiting for her to return to him. But instead of pouncing on her the second she appeared, he was standing deathly still. His face was ashen, his eyes glittered with an unreadable expression as he focused on something just beyond Dawn.  
  
It was then that Dawn caught the sound of quiet panting coming from behind her. Slowly, fearing what she suspected she would see, Dawn turned around. There were two figures entwined together on the floor, which was what Legolas had been so engrossed in.  
  
Dawn didn't need to look closely to know that one of the figures on the floor was her. And the other, the one on top of her, had blond hair, blue eyes, pale skin. . . and a black leather duster.  
  
"Oh." Dawn's eyes widened as she realised what Legolas must be thinking, seeing her in the arms of another man. She span back to him quickly to explain. "It's not real!' she cried out. ~~~  
  
Buffy smoothed the hair out of Dawn's face. "What's not real, Dawny?" she asked softly, knowing her sister would not be able to hear her but having to ask anyway.  
  
~~~  
Legolas' stare hardened. He tore his gaze from the couple making love on the living room floor and fixed it squarely on his wife. "How can that not be real? Would you lie to me Dawn?"  
  
Dawn's lower lip trembled. "Amin uumaya n'oio risa'lle, amin Taren," she swore. [I would never lie to you, my Prince.]  
  
Legolas just shook his head and resumed watching Dawn and Spike with sick fascination.  
  
Dawn ran to her husband, shaking him to try and force his focus away from the image and onto her. "No! Melamin, tanya e' numa anwa!" [That is not real!]  
  
Legolas still refused to look at her. "Is this why you left me?" ~~~  
  
"I never left you!" Dawn cried, tears streaming down her face. Her eyes popped open, startling Buffy.  
  
"Dawn!" the Slayer said, her hands brushing over the tearstained cheeks in soothing motions. "It's all right sweetheart."  
  
Dawn blinked away her tears, and some clarity returned to her vision. She stared up at Buffy a moment, decided against being bothered to speak to her sister, and rolled away. She curled up to try and sleep.  
  
Buffy's eyes welled up, but she took the not-so-subtle hint from her sister and left her alone  
  
* * * * *  
  
Night after night, Dawn sneaked out to the Magic Box, and night after night, Spike followed her. It was like an unspoken agreement between the pair. As soon as Buffy had finished patrolling and the rest of the house was asleep, Dawn would be gone.  
  
She was never at the shop for more than a few minutes before Spike joined her with his usual curse of, "Sodding bell!" to mark his entrance. As they methodically combed every book in the store for a way to get Dawn home, Spike talked Dawn into giving him Elvish lessons, and by the end of the week, he'd actually caught on to the language pretty well.  
  
"Bet they don't have a word for 'vampire' in your world, pet," Spike joked.  
  
"Uma. Ta naa Agaryulnaer," Dawn responded. [Yes. It is Vampire.]  
  
"Agaryulnaer? Neat," Spike commented before turning his attention back to the book before him. They had been breaking into the Magic Box for six nights straight now, and they had gone through nearly every book, every scroll, and every parchment Giles kept on the premises, and still they had found nothing to help Dawn.  
  
One more night and they would be finished. Although she refused to show it, Spike could tell Dawn was worried, with only a handful of books left and nothing to go on. He tried to keep the mood light for her, but it seemed nothing he said could draw a smile out of her.  
  
Silence stretched on between them, until at last Spike could stand it no more. "So. . . How do you say 'Big Bad' then? Always nice to learn your own title in another language."  
  
Success! The tiniest, barest hint of a smile flickered over Dawn's face and she thought for a moment. Spike fought the urge to hug Dawn. He knew if he startled her, she'd just clam right back up again. Bloody stubborn Summers women were like that.  
  
"Um, Alta Nquel. Lle naa i'Alta Nquel." [Big Bad. You are the Big Bad.]  
  
The candles were burning low. Spike slammed his book shut. "C'mon pet, time to go. We can finish up here tomorrow night."  
  
Dawn reluctantly returned her book to its original position and helped Spike give the store a quick once over to make sure they hadn't left any tell-tale clues, and they were on their way home.  
  
The Summers residence came into view, and Dawn and Spike froze in their tracks. The porch light was off, but in the darkness, the seat on the front porch was occupied by a slip of a blond woman. Buffy was staring out into the night, so lost in her thoughts that she was yet to notice Spike and Dawn's approach from a hundred yards off.  
  
A look passed between the pair of late-night renegades and they crept off the footpath, melting into the shadows. As one, they employed all their powers of stealth to make it to the large row of hedges blocking the Summers' yard from the neighbour's undetected.  
  
"You stay here, pet. Wait for me to get big sis to make a move and slip on up to bed," Spike breathed in Dawn's ear. He didn't even wait for her to nod her assent before backtracking a few paces and stepping out into the light, strutting down the sidewalk as if he owned it. Owned the whole town, even. He flicked his cigarette aside.  
  
"Slayer," he drawled. He smirked a little to himself as Buffy's eyes widened with a minute movement. He'd deliberately used his lowest, sexiest voice, the one that could have her doing anything his unbeating heart desired within five minutes.  
  
"Spike," Buffy stammered, trying to regain her composure. "What are you doing out so late?"  
  
"Uh, hello? Creature of the night, love. This is like early afternoon for my kind."  
  
"Right," Buffy said lamely, unable to keep the tiredness from dripping through her words.  
  
Spike frowned. "Why aren't you asleep, Buff? I know you're tired."  
  
Buffy shrugged. Her face was that very special mask of hopelessness mixed with secrecy that Spike particularly hated. It said she was upset and she wasn't going to let anyone help her out. "Just thinking. I can't sleep."  
  
A wicked grin had taken hold of Spike's features and before he knew what he'd said, "Well I've got plenty of other activities to keep you busy up in your room if sleeping's not you thing, pet," had come out of his mouth. He didn't waste his precious nanosecond pretending to regret it.  
  
Buffy glared at him coolly for a minute, but then her defences deserted her and of its own accord, her body threw itself into Spike's. They stumbled onto the darkened lawn and Buffy was already clawing at Spike's belt buckle by the time her body landed on top of his.  
  
Spike roughly pulled the Slayer down towards him, crushing her tiny frame into his arms until her entire world had been condensed into one lithe vampire writhing beneath her.  
  
For a second, Dawn watched her sister and her best friend together with complete detachment. She had considered letting her mind wander to her own memories of Spike, buried deep in time and loneliness, but at the harsh reminder of Legolas' reaction to that very memory Dawn was almost sick to her stomach. She clutched at the offending body part and ran silently to the back of the house, trying to outrun the grunts now coming from the front yard.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Well, who doesn't love a bit of Spuffy in the mix! And hey, there'll be an actual return of the songfic in the next chapter, and I know, I know, it's about time! Thanks for reading and (hint hint) reviewing! ~Anoron. 


	10. Chapter 10: Dreams That Cut Like Knives

Well I still don't own anything, but hey, least I got a decent sized chapter up this time! Gotta count for something, right? Right? And it's practically screaming for a review! Hint, hint. A/N- Emily- All my Elvish comes from an Elven Dictionary created by the wonderful people at the Grey Company. If you're interested, you can usually find something on them of you look up 'Elvish' on a search engine like yahoo.  
  
CHAPTER TEN- DREAMS THAT CUT LIKE KNIVES  
  
// Don't you cry tonight, I still love you baby  
  
Don't you cry tonight  
  
Don't you cry tonight there's a heaven above you baby  
  
And don't you cry tonight //  
  
Dawn slept fitfully, tossing and turning. She was dreaming of Legolas again. . .  
  
~~~  
He was standing before her, as he always was when she closed her eyes. She dared to smile, reaching out towards her husband. But he was out of reach. Always just out of reach, fading further and further away from her. Abandoning her.  
  
"No," she murmured as he stepped back from her. "Don't. . ." ~~~  
  
"Don't what?" Buffy asked, sitting by the bed and holding her sister's hand. But Dawn was fast asleep, caught up in her own dream world.  
  
~~~  
He was retreating so fast. Dawn started to cry at the pain her love's lack of support caused her. Why was he doing this to her? Had she not been through enough? She couldn't survive if she lost him, she knew that. She began to beg the image of Legolas shamelessly.  
  
"Help me, please," she moaned. She wanted to run to him, shake him and tell him that whatever he thought was going on between her and Spike was a lie, something left for dead and buried years before she'd even known Middle-Earth and Legolas existed. But she knew it would do no good. Her husband was angry and hurt, and he was not ready to hear a word she had to say. It was killing her. ~~~  
  
Buffy smoothed Dawn's hair back, tears streaming down her face to match the sleeping girl's. There was such pain in Dawn's voice as she cried out for help, more feeling than Dawn had shown since she had been brought back, but, once again, Buffy found herself powerless to save her.  
  
She kissed Dawn's forehead. "It's gonna be ok, sweetheart. I'm gonna help you somehow," she promised. The Slayer then settled back in her chair by the bed as comfortably as she could, keeping the long fingers clasped in her own. She knew from the experience of the few weeks her sister had now been home that her nightmares could go on for hours.  
  
Dawn often cried out in a strange language, but Buffy could not understand it, except for the pain resounding through the desperate voice that pierced the night, its owner unaware of the turmoil it was causing. Buffy had tried to remember as many of the words as she could, but the Lord, and Giles knew she was never the greatest at strange names and languages. So far Willow, Tara and Giles had been unable to identify or decipher the language so they could work out which Hell Dimension Dawn had been trapped in. They had hoped that by understanding where she had been, they could help the estranged young woman come to terms with her ordeal, and attempt to regain a sense of life and the world around her.  
  
Dawn herself was no help. If she even knew, she would flatly refuse to say which dimension she had spent the last century in, and why she had even been able to live so long in the first place without aging so much as a day. She feigned ignorance over the mysterious language of her dreams, though Buffy herself had heard Dawn murmuring words in that tongue to herself or when she was speaking to Spike, when she thought no-one else was around.  
  
Spike however, was just as tight-lipped about the mystery language, insisting she was imagining things, Dawn and he only ever spoke in English. Buffy's expression darkened at the thought of Spike and her sister. It was painfully obvious that the two shared a bond deeper than any of them had ever imagined possible, and wrong as Buffy knew it was to be jealous, she couldn't help but feel that Spike's loyalty was no longer with her, but with the one he'd sworn to protect on her behalf.  
  
In her sleep, Dawn's face contorted with such pain that Buffy's heart broke for her one more time and she forgot her jealousy in a microsecond. She tightened her hold on Dawn's hand.  
  
"I'm still here, Dawny. Still with you."  
  
~~~  
Legolas was turning his back on her.  
  
"Don't," Dawn sobbed again. "Saesa tula n'alaquel a'min." [Please come back to me]  
  
Legolas began to walk away from, her, and Dawn began to scream at his retreating form. "Legolas, amin Taren, uuma kel amin sinome! Amin ilya ereb, tua amin, Melamin." [Legolas, my Prince, don't leave me here! I'm all alone, help me, my love.]  
  
But he had left her. She was completely alone. ~~~  
  
Dawn sprang up out of her sleep and into a sitting position, choking on her own sobs. She tried to rid her mind of the image of her husband's back as he walked away from her, and became aware of a pair of strong arms encircling her.  
  
She froze in the embrace as Buffy whispered to her, "It's all right now, Dawny. You're safe, you're where you belong and you're never going back to that other place. I won't let you."  
  
Immediately wiping all traces of tears and emotions away, Dawn pulled away. "I'm all right now Buffy. Go to bed." She lay back down and tried to roll so her back was to Buffy, but Buffy stopped her with gentle, yet forceful hands.  
  
"Dawny, sit up and look at me, please?"  
  
Tossing her hair back, Dawn complied.  
  
Once again Buffy was taken aback with her sister's cool composure. It unnerved her, how reserved and isolated Dawn had been since she had been back. Xander tried to convince her that it was just an adjustment period, like she herself had gone through, but Buffy was truly concerned for her sister. She seemed dead to them, as if she didn't really want to be there. . . didn't want to be alive. Buffy realised Dawn was staring at her almost impatiently and hurried to speak.  
  
"You were having nightmares again, do you remember what happened?" Buffy asked in her most concerned voice, hoping to convince her sister to open up at last.  
  
"No, I don't remember. I'm tired, Buffy."  
  
"I know. But this is important for us to help you, Dawn."  
  
"I don't need your help."  
  
"I think you do. What does 'Legless' and 'to a heyman mealman' mean?"  
  
Dawn felt a flash of anger at the way the Slayer's tongue mangled her husband's name. She shrugged, grateful for all her recent practise in masking her emotions because she had very nearly snorted at her sister's woeful attempt at Elvish. Pronunciation had never been a point of strength with Buffy.  
  
"I don't know what it means Buffy. I don't even remember saying it," she lied, certain that the only person in any world who would be capable of spotting her deception was her brother, and Estel was long since gone from her life.  
  
"Ok," Buffy finally relented. "Sleep tight, Dawny." When Buffy leaned over and kissed Dawn's temple, Dawn's fists clenched at the sheets bunched up around her to restrain herself from shoving her sister away. Ever since she'd been torn from Middle-Earth, she'd found the touch of the Slayer to be repulsive. The tendency had become even worse when Dawn and Spike had discovered Giles kept nothing in the Magic Box that could help get her home.  
  
When she was alone, Dawn's eyes fell on the sheathed knife she kept strapped to her bedside table as a precaution. She reached out a shaking hand and drew the blade. For ten full minutes she held the knife over the tender underside of her wrist. She dared herself to drag the blade across her skin. She willed herself to drag the blade across her skin. She even begged herself to drag the blade across her skin. And she tried. She began to slice at herself, but lost her nerve at the last moment, merely creating a scratch along her arm that would fade within a day or two. Disgusted with herself, Dawn threw the knife away from her and flopped back onto the pillows, staring at the ceiling until the sunrise bathed her room in cold light.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"We need answers, Giles," Buffy fretted, pacing around the Magic Box like a caged animal.  
  
"We're working on it, Buffy," Willow piped up. She and Tara had been reading mystical texts with Giles for five hours straight, and still they were yet to come up with an answer to Dawn's problems.  
  
Giles stood and went to Buffy. He positioned himself directly in the Slayer's path so she was forced to break her stride and he placed his hands supportively on her tiny shoulders.  
  
When he spoke, his voice was slow and deliberate, full of reassurance to soothe the worried young woman before him. "Buffy. We will find a way to help Dawn. In the meantime, you need to relax, you're doing neither Dawn nor yourself any good working yourself up like this."  
  
"I can't help it, Giles. It's what I do! I get worked up about something, and then I go slay monsters. In fact, that's what I'm going to do now!" Without another word, Buffy picked up her jacket and stormed out of the Magic Box.  
  
"I almost feel sorry for the vampires out there tonight," Xander commented. "Almost."  
  
Buffy spent ten minutes patrolling, but her mind was elsewhere so she followed it all the way home. She squeezed through the front door silently, listening for sounds of life in the big house. She slipped her coat off and laid it over the banister.  
  
There were two familiar voices coming from upstairs. Buffy followed the sounds until she found herself standing just outside Dawn's closed door. A frown creased the Slayer's features as she eavesdropped. They were using that strange language again, she could hear it clear as day.  
  
"Amin nauva wanwa ten'n'nir rea, Tarien. Lle nauva ilya tereva sinome?" Spike's voice floated through the door. [I will be gone for a few days, Tarien. Will you be all right here?]  
  
Buffy pressed her ear to the door to hear Dawn's reply, even though she couldn't follow the meaning of the conversation.  
  
"Numa. Nan'eller naa numa n'at men. Umuva hort n'alaquel." [No. But there is no other way. Do hurry back.]  
  
"Amin hortuva, pet. Ar'amin koluva mani lle anta, ri'gurtha umien ikotane." [I will, pet. And I'll carry what you need, or die doing so.]  
  
"Amin uuma merna ten'lle a'gurtha, Alta Nquel," Dawn replied softly. [I do not want you to die, Big Bad.]  
  
Buffy frowned as Spike suddenly broke back into English.  
  
"Yeah, guess there's been enough of that gone around already."  
  
Buffy heard the rustling sounds that indicated Spike was getting up to leave the room, so she flew back downstairs and opened the front door as silently as she could.  
  
Spike came out of Dawn's room and paused. He sniffed the air in confusion. Buffy's scent was strong throughout the hallway, as if she'd been standing there only seconds before.  
  
The front door slammed, and Buffy's voice called up the stairs. "Dawn? You here?"  
  
Spike came down the stairs to meet the Slayer as she locked the front door behind her. "The Nibblet's upstairs. I just left her, she said she was going to bed now. Any major action tonight?"  
  
"No," Buffy responded, on guard. She was weary of Spike now, and she would be until her friends could discover exactly what was going on with Dawn, and then she could find out how he was involved. "Nothing really. The gang's all working on ways to help Dawn still. I took a quick patrol, but there wasn't much going on out there. I think I might hit the sack as well. G'Night."  
  
Buffy started up the stairs, but Spike's hand shot out to stop her. "Look, luv, I'm gonna take off for a few days. I just have some things to do out of town, but I should be back by the weekend."  
  
"Ok," Buffy responded, still on guard. 'What are you up to, Spike?' she wondered silently. "Take care," she said aloud.  
  
With that, she made her way upstairs. Spike watched her go, then turned to head to the basement to grab a few things he would need for his trip. He was going to see some demons he'd heard of, who specialised in mystical potions, and he hoped one would carry what Dawn needed to get her home and happy again. He went to rest his hand on the banister and frowned when it came into contact with something soft. It was Buffy's coat, but he knew it hadn't been there when he'd gone upstairs to talk to Dawn, and she hadn't taken it off when she came inside just now.  
  
Spike's eyes widened. "She knows something," he realised.  
  
They were running out of time.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Hmm. Plot is thickening just a little. Guess it was bound to happen eventually. Holds up sign: WILL DANCE FOR REVIEWS. I like dancing. Please let me dance. ~Anoron. 


	11. Chapter 11: Races Against Innocent Evils

More again, and aren't ya glad the plot is finally thickening? Even if I don't own the characters, Joss and Tolkien do. Lucky devils. Wish I owned a couple of blond-haired blue-eyed immortals. Just a couple of quick notes: Fancy- here's your fix! And Airielle, I'm glad you think my fic is groovy, and you'll get your answer in chapter form when I post next, which might be by the end of the week, with any luck. Also, thanks for your honesty Calendar. I may not agree with you (of course I don't- I'm a narrow-sighted author who thinks every word that pours from her mouth is sheer poetry. pfft) but I respect your opinion and I'm glad you took the time to give me a strong argument in your review. Ok, my feet hurt from all the review-dancing I've been doing, so I'm afraid I'm gonna have to cancel the dancing this time. Sorry. How about loads of happy thoughts in exchange for your review? Well, here's the next chapter, something with an old family member. . . Who could it be??? Enjoy, ~Anoron  
  
CHAPTER ELEVEN- RACES AGAINST INNOCENT EVILS  
  
The engine of Spike's motorcycle roared as he hurtled down the highway. After riding for several hours through the night, he came to a stop at a small, rank looking bar on the highway. It was only minutes before he was in the back room, speaking with a seedy Warlock.  
  
"I hear you got a nifty little potion, gets a fellow wherever he wants to go," William the Bloody announced, throwing himself into a chair brashly. He fought the urge to rip the Warlock's throat out on principle, he was just like Rack if the hoard of desperate magic junkies littering the waiting room were any indication.  
  
"And how does this concern you, vampire? More importantly, how does this serve me?" the Warlock's eyes glittered greedily.  
  
"Right then," Spike resigned himself to the usual Warlock price. "Show me the stuff, you get the tour of my neat little vampirically mystical self, and I take my potion and be on my way."  
  
"Not how it works with vampires," came the counter.  
  
"Well, just in case, I brought a whole bunch of dead guys on green paper," the vampire reached into his duster and produced an impressive wad of cash. Stolen, naturally.  
  
"Well then, I believe we can do business," the Warlock replied with a sardonic grin, heading over to a cabinet. He pulled out a small vial and laid it on the table.  
  
"And this is guaranteed to work?" Spike clarified.  
  
"There's a catch. Once the potion is taken, there is a choice. You pick where you want to go, and you'd better make sure you pick right, becuase once the potion takes effect, there's no going back," warned the Warlock.  
  
Spike reached out and snatched up the vial. "Right then."  
  
Magic crackled from the Warlock's hands as he advanced towards Spike. "My payment," he reminded him, his tone threatening.  
  
With one last contemptuous look at the Warlock dealer, Spike flung his wad of cash at him and stormed out to his motorcycle, the vial safely nestled in the inner pocket of his duster.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Spike slammed the vial down on Dawn's dresser proudly. "Got it!"  
  
Dawn looked over, mildly curious as to what Spike had brought her.  
  
Spike waited a beat for her to react, his beaming grin frozen in place. He wiped the smile from his face and gave her a look when several seconds passed with no response from Dawn. "Well? That's your ticket home, Tarien. Aren't you happy? I'll be expecting your heartfelt gratitude any moment now. . ."  
  
"Thank you, Spike," Dawn's tired voice was void of any real thankfulness, but Spike could see a small glimmer of it in her eyes, mixed with her indecision. He knew at once that she would not be drinking the potion straight away.  
  
"Look, pet, there's something you need to know about the potion. Once you drink it, you need to make your choice. Once you decide to go home and drink the potion, there's no coming back. It's a done deal."  
  
Dawn nodded dumbly. Spike watched her for a few seconds more before leaving her alone without another word. She would need some time to take it all in. Dawn switched the light off as the vampire left, preferring the dull glow of the candle at her bedside. She turned and tensed, catching sight of a bulk moving slowly in the shadows.  
  
"Who's there?" Dawn demanded, reaching for a weapon.  
  
Buffy's body went rigid as she heard Dawn's voice. She crept out of her room and down the hall, ready to ambush anyone who dared attack her sister. She paused in the shadows of the hall, watching the figure in the corner Dawn's room like a hawk.  
  
The figure in the shadows shifted, and Dawn could make out its hands were held up in gesture of peace. It began to move slowly forwards, coming into the light.  
  
"Estel," she gasped.  
  
Her brother smiled gently at her, his grey eyes shining with warmth and concern. "You've not aged a day, Seler'nin."  
  
"And you've dropped a fair few days yourself, big brother," Dawn commented wryly.  
  
It was true, Estel seemed to be in the prime of his life, appearing before Dawn just as he had looked back in his glory days, the first years of the reign of the high King Elessar.  
  
The blood drained from Buffy's face as she listened to the conversation. Why had Dawn just called this man, more accurately, this apparition of a man dressed in medieval clothing, big brother? Who forged sibling type relationships with someone in a hell dimension? Buffy well remembered her little stint in hell the summer after she'd killed Angel, and she knew it was hard enough keeping yourself alive in one of those places, let alone have time to bond.  
  
"Yes, I am looking quite well, aren't I?" Estel grinned smugly as he reached over and took Dawn's hand in his. "But now I must wonder what am I to do to get my Dawny looking well again herself."  
  
Dawn pulled her hand from his. She turned and looked out the window. When she spoke, her voice was so low that Buffy had to strain to hear it from the hall. "You can make it go away."  
  
"What would you have me banish then?" He patted Anduril, as ever sheathed at his side, as if one stroke of the blade could solve all Dawn's problems.  
  
"Everything."  
  
"Well, there is some limitations even to my power," Estel joked grimly. His eyes shone with sorrow, betraying how badly he wished he could grant his little sister's request and see her smile again.  
  
"No, the great King of Men, Elessar Telcontar, my big brother, has limitations to his power? I never would've guessed. Must suck to be mortal," Dawn responded, turning back to him.  
  
Estel almost laughed at the apparent joke, but he quickly realised there was no humour to Dawn's voice, not even her famous dry wit of old.  
  
"I don't know about that, Dawny. To look at you, one might say it must suck to be immortal," he countered, his nose wrinkling a little with the use of the strange expression.  
  
'Immortal?' Buffy thought. She pressed her tiny form against the wall for support, a sinking feeling settling deep into the pit of her stomach. It couldn't be. . . Tara had done an aura scan, there was no way Dawn had been in heaven. Buffy physically shook her head as if to dispel the awful notion.  
  
Stepping forward, the late King placed a gentle hand on Dawn's cheek. "You're not happy here, little sister."  
  
"Of course I'm not. How could I be?" Dawn retorted, the barest hint of fire in her eyes. "They keep telling me that this is my home. It's not."  
  
Buffy pushed herself away from the wall and ran down the hallway. She took the stairs silently and was out the front door in a flash, running for the Magic Box. As she ran, she hastily whipped a few confused and frightened tears from her cheeks.  
  
"Then why not go home? You have the means, you could be back where you belong in a heartbeat. Drink the potion, Seler'nin. For yourself and your husband." He gestured to the untouched vial sitting on the dresser, but Dawn refused to even look at it.  
  
"For him? He hates me, Estel. The dreams- he won't even look at me, he thinks I betrayed him. Besides, who says I belong there anyway? If I really did, how could the powers let this happen?"  
  
"'Tis not their place to interfere with all the workings of the lower beings. They leave us, for the most part, to our own devices. Galadriel sends word to you; Remember what she has given you in the past. Your destiny is your own and you choose the path for your feet," Estel recited.  
  
"Galadriel sent you here?" Dawn asked. "How could she do that?"  
  
Estel smiled. "With the aid of some old friends. Elrond and Gandalf helped her to summon me from my rest and bring me here to talk with you a while. I am told Gimli, Thranduil, Frodo and Sam send their love from Valinor as well."  
  
"Great," Dawn replied unenthusiastically. "Anything else?"  
  
"Yes, Galadriel bade me tell you to follow your heart, it will lead your feet home."  
  
Dawn sat down on the bed, dejected. "I don't trust my heart's sense of direction right now, Estel. I want to go home, want Legolas, want everything to be real and right again, but I don't think I can. Look at me. There's nothing left to me, nothing he could possibly want. He's better off just letting me go."  
  
Estel studied her face creafully. It was a blank canvass it seemed, a shadow of her old character and it pained him to think she must suffer in this way needlessly. He looked to a picture on her dresser, of her family here in Sunnydale. He picked it up, truly impressed with the detail captured by the artist. Whoever had created this portrait must have some wonderous skill, he realised.  
  
"This is a marvellous work of art," he praised.  
  
"It's a photograph, Estel," Dawn responded dryly.  
  
Estel frowned. Was that supposed to explain something to him?  
  
"Why didn't you tell them?" he asked, wanting to know why she hadn't just told these people what they had done to her, hopefully have them aid her in remedying the situation.  
  
"They don't want to know," came the flat reply. "They never want to know."  
  
A sudden light feeling came over Estel. He waited a moment for it to pass and smiled sadly at Dawn and she rose to her feet. "I must go soon."  
  
The intensity in his voice deepened and he grasped her by the shoulders. "Seler'nin please listen to me. Whatever you believe, however you hurt, you and Legolas belong together, and you need each other. I would not have given him your hand if I did not believe in the word forever and you made a promise that you would honour that. Not only to your husband, but to your brother and I would hold you to it."  
  
"But I don't think I can hold myself to it, Estel."  
  
Estel closed his eyes against the tears threatening to well up in them. In all his life and beyond, the one person he'd never believed he'd see broken was his sister, the most incredible human woman he'd ever been privileged to know. Yet here she was. Broken.  
  
"Dawn, please," he began, only to be cut off by another, fiercer wave of lightness. When it passed, he opened his eyes and locked onto her apathetic green orbs. "Go home, and be happy. You deserve it and you owe it to everybody who knows and loves you. Also, I need you to give Arwen a message for me. Tell her she doesn't have to be lonely. Nobody should."  
  
His last words were spoken so deliberately that Dawn knew he was referring to her as well. She looked at him helplessly, undecided still. Estel felt himself fading and knew the time had come for him to leave. He kissed Dawn's cheek softly and held her to him.  
  
"Lle caela ilya amin meleth, Seler'nin," he reminded her firmly. [You have all my love, my sister.]  
  
"I love you too, Estel," Dawn responded. She almost cringed as she noted the hint of disappointment her brother was unable to keep from his eyes as he looked at her. She was failing him.  
  
She squeezed her eyes closed to block out the look in Estel's eyes, and when she opened them again, he was gone. One last message from her brother's fading voice reached her ears as he left her; "Happy birthday, Seler'nin."  
  
Dawn was stunned. She hadn't even remembered that this day, the same day a hundred years ago she jumped into the portal and landed in Middle- Earth, was the day they had always laughingly celebrated as her birthday.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Buffy burst into the Magic Box, puffing slightly from the exertion of having sprinted all the way there.  
  
"Buffy? What's wrong?" Giles was immediately at his Slayer's side. He went to lead her to a chair, but Buffy brushed him off.  
  
She stood before her friends who had worked so tirelessly to help her bring her sister back from the dead, a haunted expression shadowing her eyes and her face almost ashen. She couldn't meet anyone's eyes.  
  
"I think we made a mistake," she admitted, her voice thick.  
  
"What do you mean, Buff?" Xander asked, closing his book. He was concerned about the condition his best friend was in, but that didn't mean he wasn't excited at the prospect of having an excuse to stop reading for a little while.  
  
"With Dawn."  
  
Willow furrowed her brow. "What about Dawn? Do you think we're researching how to help her from the wrong angle?"  
  
"She's not happy," Buffy said. Her sentences were coming in short, monotonous bursts as she tried to sort through the confusion crowding her mind. "She should be happy."  
  
"We know that, sweetie. That's why we're trying to find something here that will help her. And we will," Tara affirmed in her most reassuring voice.  
  
"Buffy, you knew this would be a risk with bringing Dawn back," Giles reminded her gently. "And you of all people should be able to understand, since you yourself have gone through much the same thing only a couple of years ago. Dawn just needs time to adjust."  
  
"She's had a month. She should be showing some progress by now. I think we made a mistake," she repeated.  
  
"You can't just give up on her!" Xander exploded.  
  
"Xander's right," Willow chimed in. "Just beacuse she's taking a little time to adjust, doesn't mean we should just lose hope, make her do it on her own. We're here, Buffy, and we're doing everything we can to help her, but if her own sister's going to just give up on her-"  
  
"I'm not!" Buffy cried. "I just. . . think we should've put a little more planning into it before we just went ahead and resurrected Dawn."  
  
"But, it's us," Xander's nose was wrinkled in confusion. "We never put any more planning into anything, Buff. You know that. Sometimes we even skip the whole planning bit altogether."  
  
Buffy stared at her friends for a minute, then ducked her head a little. Maybe they were right. Maybe she was giving up on Dawn prematurely. What kind of sister would do something like that? It was her; she was wrong and Dawn would be fine sometime soon and then she would laugh at herself for ever thinking something so ridiculous.  
  
"You're right. She just needs more time."  
  
* * * * * 


	12. Chapter 12: Estranged

New chapter! Yay me! Although it might be a little while before the next one comes. . . essays to do. Stupid essays. Anyway, I don't own anything here, the BtVS stuff is all Joss Whedon's [all hail King Joss], and the LOTR stuff is JRR Tolkien's. The two songs are Don't Cry, Alt Lyrics (as you know by now) and Estranged, both from the lyrical genius that is Axl Rose and belonging to Guns N' Roses. Now I get on with the show, but not before I mention that now those of you who have had both faith and patience are about to be rewarded. Enjoy, ~Anoron .  
  
.  
  
. CHAPTER TWELVE- ESTRANGED  
  
// I know the things you wanted, they're not what you have  
  
With all the people talking, it's driving you mad  
  
If I was standing by you, how would you feel?  
  
Knowing your love's decided and all love is real //  
  
Dawn watched the blood oozing over her pale skin with complete detachment. The cuts were shallow, and not enough to end her sorry existence, but they would scar. She almost wished she had the strength to wish she had pressed down on the blade a little harder when she had slit each of her wrists twice. Once down each vein, once across to create two ugly red crosses, distorted by the blood streaking all over her forearms.  
  
Eventually, the flow of blood stopped and she was able to wipe her forearms clean with a damp cloth. She looked from her broken skin to the vial sitting on her dresser, where Spike had placed it two days earlier. He wasn't here today- he had gone back to his crypt last night, and now had to wait for sunset to return. A part of Dawn knew Spike had left hoping to never see her again. And there it was, her chance to go home. The thing she had been working for, praying for, breathing for ever since she had been thrown back into hell, and now she didn't know if she could use it. She didn't think she deserved to be back in Legolas' arms, and every night when she dreamed of him, he was just a little further away from her, a little more out of her reach. Always leaving her, or blaming her for leaving him. She wasn't even sure he would want her back now, in fact, she actually believed he wouldn't. After all, look what she had become. An empty shell, scarred and worthless. And she just knew he falsely believed she was cheating on him with a vampire.  
  
Slowly, she stood and made her way to the window. Outside, the world was lit in the pure beauty of the sunshine, but to Dawn there was only bleak, ashen grey. The world was more dead to her than the fields of Mordor, as she had seen them on the day the realm of Sauron was ended forever. Below, in the yard, she could see the others. Buffy, Willow, Xander, Giles and Tara all lounging about, enjoying the sun. Living. Content to stay and embrace their fate on the Hellmouth.  
  
Dawn's face set in a grim line. "No," she told herself sternly. She would not allow herself to accept this empty fate. She had no purpose here, she never had. The others had no right, and no reason to bring her back here. Sunnydale was hell to her. Whether she deserved him or not, she needed Legolas, and she had to take her chances at returning to him, or die trying. Estel was right, she had promises to keep. And she was going to try.  
  
She went to her desk and scrawled two simple notes, one in English, the other in Elvish. Folding one in half, she flew down into the basement and tucked it under Spike's pillow, hoping only he would find it, but knowing it wouldn't make a difference if the one of the others did.  
  
Squaring her shoulders, she made her way back up to her room, closing the door softly behind her. After one last long stare at her once-family through the glass, she firmly tugged her curtains closed. The grey world was blocked out. She went to her stereo and fed a CD into the drive, pressing play and then repeat when it had loaded. She re-read the remaining note and left it on the dresser, in place of the vial she now held in her hand. Lying on the bed, she closed her eyes and downed the contents of the vial. She listened to the music which seemed to surround her, enveloping her in the bittersweet notes.  
  
// When you're talking to yourself and nobody's home  
  
You can fool yourself you came in this world alone  
  
Alone  
  
So nobody ever told you baby how it was gonna be  
  
So what'll happen to you baby  
  
Guess we'll have to wait and see  
  
One, two  
  
Old at heart but I'm only twenty eight  
  
And I'm much too young to let love break my heart  
  
Young at heart but it's getting much too late  
  
To find ourselves so far apart  
  
I don't know how you're supposed to find me lately  
  
And what more could you ask from me, hey  
  
How could you say that I never needed you  
  
When you took everything  
  
Said you took everything from me  
  
Young at heart and it gets so hard to wait  
  
When no one I know can seem to help me now  
  
Old at heart but I mustn't hesitate  
  
If I'm to find my own way out  
  
Still talking to myself and nobody's home  
  
Alone  
  
So nobody ever told us baby how it was gonna be  
  
So what'll happen to us baby  
  
Guess we'll have to wait and see  
  
When I find out all the reasons maybe I'll find another way  
  
Find another day with all the changing seasons  
  
Of my life maybe I'll get it right next time  
  
And now that you've been broken down  
  
Got your head out of the clouds  
  
You're back down on the ground  
  
And you don't talk so loud  
  
And you don't walk so proud  
  
Anymore  
  
And what for  
  
Well I jumped into the river too many times to make it home  
  
I'm out here on my own and drifting all alone  
  
If it doesn't show give it time  
  
To read between the lines  
  
I see the storm is getting closer  
  
And the waves they get so high  
  
Seems everything we've ever known's here  
  
Why must it drift away and die?  
  
I'll never find anyone to replace you  
  
Guess I'll have to make it through this time  
  
Oh this time without you  
  
I knew the storm was getting closer  
  
And all my friends said I was high  
  
But everything we've ever known's here  
  
I never wanted it to die //  
  
"Dawny?" Buffy knocked on her sister's door. It was getting late. The sun had set and Dawn hadn't come out of her room all afternoon.  
  
"She not opening her door?" Willow asked as she bounded up the stairs, Tara on her heels.  
  
"Maybe we should check on her," Tara suggested.  
  
Buffy turned the knob and pushed the door open. Dawn was on the bed, seemingly asleep. The CD player was blaring 'Estranged' by Guns N' Roses and the song was set on repeat. Buffy frowned to herself. Dawn had always thought that song was too depressing, and she *never* left a song on repeat; she got bored of it too easily that way.  
  
"Dawny?" Buffy called, but her sister didn't stir in the slightest. She was so pale. All at once Buffy noticed that Dawn's unmoving hand was clenched around something and her lips were the most unnatural shade of blue.  
  
"Oh no. No, no, no, no, no," she breathed, rushing to the bed.  
  
Willow and Tara stepped into the room behind her.  
  
"Oh God," they heard Tara say softly. She was staring at a piece of paper on the dresser, tears already springing to her eyes.  
  
Buffy looked from Dawn's blue lips to the vial enclosed in her hand. A lump formed in her throat and once again she pushed her suspicions about their mistake in resurrecting Dawn firmly out of mind. They couldn't be true. None of this could be. She turned and snatched the paper from Tara, scanning the note quickly.  
  
'I once said you made me feel like I belonged here, even though I knew I didn't. I know you tried to make me belong, but I don't. There is no purpose, no reason for me to be here. There is no life for me here. I'm back where I do belong now. ~DawnGSummers'  
  
// Well I jumped into the river too many times to make it home  
  
I'm out here on my own and drifting all alone  
  
If it doesn't show give it time  
  
To read between the lines... //  
  
The lyrics, and their potent meaning reached Tara and she hurried over to turn the CD player off. The room almost exploded with the sudden silence. Buffy crumpled in a heap on the floor, staring at her sister's suicide note, confusion etched on her face in deep lines.  
  
"What's the caper up here, luvs," Spike asked, walking into Dawn's room at that moment. Nobody acknowledged him, but it didn't matter to Spike as his eyes fell on Dawn's lifeless body and he recognised the stench of death in the air.  
  
"Tarien," he whispered, but nobody heard his softened voice. He rushed to the bed, checking her over even though he'd known the second after he'd walked in that she was gone forever. Through the bittersweet tears already gathering in his eyes he glanced at the vial in her hand. Gently, he took it from her and folded her hands across her chest, as she'd once told him was the Elvish fashion for sleeping. Nobody noticed as he slipped the vial in the pocket of his duster.  
  
Willow and Tara were crying openly by now. Buffy was still in shock. Spike was in the process of lifting her to a chair when Xander and Giles burst in.  
  
"We were yelling for you," Xander was almost pouting at being ignored, and then was bumped aside my the middle-aged man rushing in behind him.  
  
"Nobody was answering our calls," Giles puffed. Then the two men saw the body.  
  
"Dear Lord," Giles moaned, whipping his glasses off his face.  
  
Xander's lip trembled as he took the note from Buffy's hand and read it quickly. "Oh man." His voice was thick with tears already. "Poor Dawn. Little Dawny. . ." He took a closer look at the name scrawled hastily beneath the note.  
  
"Hey. . . there's a 'G' in her name. What's that?" he frowned at the group.  
  
None but Spike knew that 'G' stood for her husband's second name, 'Greenleaf', and that was a confidence he would never share with them, he vowed. Giles was beginning to collect himself, to take control.  
  
"We shall have to take care of her. . ." he said softly, meaning the body.  
  
Willow sniffled and shook her head. "We already failed at that, Giles. We brought her body out of hell, but we couldn't save her. She thinks she belongs there," she turned and sobbed in Tara's embrace.  
  
Spike could stand to be with them no longer. Happy as he was that Dawn had gone home, and that at least some part of her still believed she deserved happiness, he couldn't help but mourn for her loss, yet again. He slipped unnoticed from Dawn's room and into the basement.  
  
Once he was alone, the tears that had been threatening to consume him spilled forth in a tidal wave. He sank down on the bed and burrowed as deep as he could into the mattress to try and muffle his sobs. His hand slid under his pillow to grab at the sheets beneath, and he felt the unmistakable texture of paper against his skin. He pulled out a short, sweet note and choked his sobs back long enough to read.  
  
'Hannon lle, amin anwa mellon. Amin quel Agaryulnaer. Amin nauva ten'oio lle Tarien. Namaarie, Alta Nquel.' [Thank you, my real friend. My good vampire. I will be forever your Princess. Farewell, Big Bad]  
  
As Spike read, his tears dried and he managed a soft smile. "Namaarie, Little Bit," he whispered as he folded the note into his pocket. "Find your way Dawny, for the both of us."  
  
* * * * *  
  
~So. . . are we happy? Sad? Wondering where the hell our little Dawny really went? Dying to know what happens next? Wishing I had just put a bullet in her brain and made it easier? [You'd better not be thinking that last one!!] Either way, review and let me know. Thanks for reading, ~Anoron 


	13. Chapter 13: Home, Or Something Like It

Ok, by now you know it isn't mine. Which sux, but hey, unless I change my name to Tolkien or Whedon, I guess I'll just have to deal. Ok, this may be the last chapter for a week or two coz I have a serious case of writer's block with this. I know exactly what is going to happen for the rest of the story, I just can't get it onto the page. I will work really hard at it, though, I promise. This one is a little short (hey, aren't all my chapters short, really) but I just wanted to kill the suspense and let you all know what happened to our little Dawny once she committed 'suicide'. Enjoy, R&R, ~Anoron  
  
CHAPTER THIRTEEN- HOME, OR SOMETHING LIKE IT  
  
//And don't you cry tonight  
  
Don't you cry tonight  
  
Don't you cry tonight  
  
There's a heaven above you baby  
  
And don't you cry tonight//  
  
Legolas sat in his throne, brooding. Elladan watched him curiously. He had never seen someone brood for over three decades before, not even his father had brooded for more than twenty years at most after the departure of their mother for Valinor. It was late, and all of Mirkwood was resting except for four Elves. Legolas was often up late now, and his three dearest friends, Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen, still refused to let their friend grieve the loss of his wife alone.  
  
"Legolas?" Arwen finally asked. "Is it not time for rest?"  
  
Legolas gave her the most dejected look she had ever seen. "All this time, and still I can not sleep without her."  
  
Elladan and Arwen exchanged heavy glances.  
  
"You can sleep with me if you like," Elrohir joked lamely and received a half-hearted smile in response.  
  
Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of white light and when it subsided, before them stood Dawn.  
  
"Perhaps not," Elrohir amended, but was batted into silence by his twin's hand.  
  
Dawn stared at Legolas, her face chillingly void of any and all emotion. Legolas stared dumbly back for a moment, his blue eyes glittering with the tears welling up in them.  
  
"Dawn?" he managed to choke out, stumbling in an un-Elf-like fashion over to her. He lifted a trembling hand to caress her cheek.  
  
"I'm home now. Home. . ." she whispered with a smile that failed to reach her dull green eyes.  
  
Legolas pulled Dawn into his arms, rocking her back and forth as the tears of joy began to stream down his face. Dawn's eyes fluttered closed and she took a deep breath. Home. She could only hope so.  
  
After several long moments, Arwen interrupted the pair. "It's good to see you, Dawn. We have missed you," the She-Elf smiled gently. "Perhaps we could talk, tomorrow, though. It is late and you must rest now, you seem so weary. We all are. . ."  
  
Dawn just opened her eyes and stared at her friend blankly. Elrohir picked up on his sister's train of thought. "Yes," he said, a little more forcefully than Arwen's soft demeanour. "It is very late. Legolas, perhaps you should take Dawn to rest?" he prodded.  
  
"Goodnight, Legolas. Goodnight, Dawn," the three Rivendell Elves chimed in together, preparing to give the couple some space.  
  
"I missed you," Dawn quietly told them as they slipped out of the room, not sure if they had heard her or not. She let Legolas lead her to their chambers, where she crashed almost immediately into an exhausted sleep.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Dawn awoke and found a pair of brilliant blue eyes staring down into hers. "Legolas?" she whispered, confused. This wasn't where she was supposed to be- she was meant to be in Sunnydale, in hell where she belonged.  
  
"Yes, melamin, it's me. It's all right- you're home now," he returned, reaching down to lay a comforting hand on her cheek. "Everything is five by five," he joked. Dawn had used that phrase so often, there was not an Elf left in Mirkwood who would even bat an eye at the strange words. And Dawn had always enjoyed being what she called a 'trend-setter' in that way, Legolas could have sworn he heard the words 'five by five' pass Elladan's lips on multiple occasions in the last hundred and thrity or so years.  
  
Dawn didn't smile. She couldn't. Legolas, aware that his joke had fallen flat, was speaking softly to her, trying to gain some sort of reaction that would show she was comforted by him.  
  
"I dreamed about you, Dawn. Every night I dreamed about you. . . I wanted you so badly," he told her, trying to surpress the image of his Dawn in the arms of that creature that burned in his mind and heart.  
  
"I dreamed about you, too," Dawn replied in a flat voice. Her heart flooded with images of his retreating form as he turned his back on her, ignoring her cries for help.  
  
Legolas frowned to himself. Had he just detected a note of real darkness in her tone? He shrugged it off, determined to make Dawn smile, make her happy again now that she was back where she belonged. Then it occurred to him that he didn't know where she had been. They had assumed that she had been called back to her old world, but with Gandalf, Galadriel and Elrond long departed from Middle-Earth, they hadn't been able find out for sure. They had been powerless to help Dawn.  
  
"Arwen and the twins are dying to see you," he told her with a great smile. "I have been chasing them from our door to let you sleep for almost two hours now."  
  
"You should have woken me. And Elves who don't die can't be dying to see me."  
  
"I am sorry, but you seemed so peaceful, melamin. I had not the heart to wake you," he responded softly, a little confused and pained by her deadpan tone.  
  
"Right," Dawn relented. "I guess I should get up and take a bath anyway. Time to see some old friends."  
  
Legolas nodded and leaned in to kiss her. Dawn accepted his kiss, but Legolas was more than a little hurt when she did not kiss him back. He had been pining for her, burning with desire for thirty three long years and now she was finally here and he could touch her, but she did not seem to want him at all. He bit back a grimace when he thought of her and the vampire. . . Spike. Perhaps she was pining for him, perhaps she did not want to be here at all. A scowl threatened to settle over Legolas' features, but he forced it back. Dawn needed him now, he could not fail her through his own jealousy.  
  
Almost an hour had passed before Dawn emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a simple gown, hair left loose about her shoulders. She had barely managed to get her bedroom door open before she was engulfed in a mass of dark hair and pointy ears as the twins and Arwen jostled for room to embrace her.  
  
"By Valar, let the Queen breathe," a voice jokingly scolded from beyond them.  
  
"Sorry, Dawn. Legolas," Elladan acknowledged, pulling himself and his siblings out of Dawn's personal space.  
  
Legolas grinned, inserting himself at Dawn's side in the space his friends had just vacated. He escorted his wife to breakfast, only to watch her chase her food around her plate listlessly, almost oblivious to the stir she caused with each new Elf that entered the room and laid eyes on her.  
  
News of Dawn's return spread like wildfire through the Mirkwood forest and Dawn knew it was unavoidable, she was going to have to face the masses soon. She sighed and pushed her plate away from her, gesturing to Legolas that the time had come.  
  
He rose and offered his arm. Dawn took it and was escorted to a balcony overlooking the crowded main courtyard of the palace. Legolas released her just before the threshold and stepped out into the open alone. An excited hush settled over the Mirkwood Elves as they waited for their King to speak.  
  
With a great smile, Legolas announced, "The Queen has been returned to her rightful home."  
  
Arwen tried to squeeze Dawn's hand supportively, but Dawn ignored the gesture. She squared her shoulders and stepped out to Legolas' side amidst the overjoyed applause of her people.  
  
"Aaye, Tari Dawn," they called out to her. [Hail Queen Dawn]  
  
Dawn could do little more than offer a wan smile and a half-hearted wave before retreating into the relative safety of the palace interior. Legolas frowned to himself. No matter what kind of mood she was in, Dawn never shied away from the crowds. More often than not, she was dragging him into them with her. The Elves looked disappointed at such a small moment in which they could see their missing Monarch.  
  
"The Queen has been through much while she was away," he explained to them. "She adores Mirkwood's people, and will no doubt be looking forward to spending time with you when she is well again."  
  
He turned and headed inside to Dawn's side, praying to the Valar that his words would ring true and Dawn would be better in no time.  
  
* * * * * 


	14. Chapter fourteen: Left Unsaid

OH MY GOD I'VE RETURNED FROM THE DEAD!!!! Well, not really, just returned from the ranks of the technologically retarded. I have to say that I am SO SORRY for taking so long to get back to posting, it was a bit harder to get the internet than I'd hoped. Put it this way, I'm connected by a computer that will explode if I try and install anything more recent than Windows 95 on it. I still don't own any of this stuff, by the way, and if you want to sue me all you will get is my dinosaur of a computer. New chap, and, touch wood (I tihnk my computer may even be MADE of wood!) the next one won't take nearly as long to appear. Enjoy, I've missed all your fantastic reviewing. ~Anoron. . . . .  
  
CHAPTER FOURTEEN- LEFT UNSAID  
  
The silence in the room was becoming unbearable. Four Elves and a Key sat around the roaring fire in a spacious chamber, but there was nothing in the atmosphere of the comfort the scene suggested. Every few minutes, one of them would open their mouths, as if to speak, but change their mind at the last moment and the muteness stretched on and on.  
  
Dawn's eyes strayed to Arwen and Estel's words burned in her ears.  
  
*I need you to give Arwen a message for me. Tell her she doesn't have to be lonely. Nobody should.*  
  
Her lips parted, slightly at first, but then they stretched open far enough for her to form sounds. 'Tell her,' she mentally willed herself. 'It's such a simple thing, all you have to do is give your best friend her husband's message'.  
  
Dawn's lips started to move the slightest bit, words were only microseconds from being formed when Dawn felt her throat close up. She looked around and realised that everyone in the room had been hanging on the words she'd never said and snapped her mouth closed. She shrunk back in her chair, wondering what in the name of the Valar had come over her.  
  
Legolas waited. He had been so sure she was about to speak. He felt the twins tense up next to him and knew they'd believed the same. But Dawn suddenly closed he mouth and withdrew herself a little and he knew whatever she was about to say was lost forever. In vain, he let a pregnant pause pass before tearing his expectant gaze away.  
  
Elrohir and Elladan exchanged identical glances. For a moment, the twins communicated through only a series of minute facial expressions and eye movements, until Elladan gave a slight shrug and looked away. He supposed his brother was right- it would not be proper of them to bombard Dawn with questions so soon, curious as they all were to hear her tale.  
  
Arwen too was studying Dawn intently. She'd noticed the younger immortal's gaze sweep over her, as if deliberating something before her mouth wavered on the verge of speech. Arwen tried to smile encouragingly at her dearest friend, but she couldn't even get her to look her way. Legolas too seemed to be trying to urge Dawn to speak what was on her mind, but he was having as little success as she.  
  
Soon enough, the Mirkwood Queen stood and slipped silently from the room. The four Elves frowned. It was very unlike Dawn to leave them without taking a moment to say goodbye first, even if she was only going to be gone a few minutes. It was just too anti-social for Dawn. Legolas glanced at his friends before following her to their chambers.  
  
When he caught up with her, she had already flopped listlessly onto the large bed, and was staring at the far wall. For half a second, he caught the most distinct glimpse of turmoil raging within the green depths of her eyes, but they became shuttered the second she registered another presence in the room. Undeterred, Legolas sat down on the edge of the bed, where he had a clear view of her face.  
  
"What's up?" Dawn asked.  
  
"I might ask the same of you, melamin," Legolas responded, running a fingertip down her pale cheek.  
  
Dawn shrugged. "Tired."  
  
He looked her over appraisingly. True, his wife appeared apathetic and subdued, but she was most definitely was not tired. "You don't look tired."  
  
"I don't look like I'm a hundred years old, either."  
  
"No, you don't," Legolas said softly. "You look exactly the way I remember you- beautiful."  
  
Dawn fixed her husband with a mildly surprised stare. He'd always been good with words, but she'd never have labelled him a smooth talker until now. She knew she must look like death, but strangely she couldn't seem to care.  
  
Legolas stared back at Dawn, holding her gaze. After a few moments, he leaned down and gently kissed her. Dawn's eyes fluttered closed on reflex, her lips moving mechanically beneath his. Despite the lukewarm response, Legolas pressed on, hoping to coax some deeper feeling out of her before long.  
  
He stretched out on the bed, pressing his body close to Dawn's, which remained as cold as ever. Still undeterred, Legolas eased himself even closer, working on the lacings of her dress. Dawn did not protest as Legolas carefully undressed her, nor did she make any move to help him. Legolas smiled down at the creamy white skin of his wife's body, pressing feather-light kisses all over it.  
  
Dawn lay back against the pillows, eyes still closed to the world. She could feel Legolas' warm lips tracing their way over her body, and dully remembered that this slight tickling feeling used to create such a fire within her that could make her scream for more. Even his attentions to the sensitive skin of her waist could not elicit a reaction from Dawn.  
  
Almost as if giving up, Legolas suddenly pulled away from Dawn. She listened uninterestedly to the rustling sounds around her that continued for a minute. She opened her eyes only to notice that the rustling sounds had been made by her husband removing his own clothing, apparently resigned to the fact that Dawn was not going to help him out.  
  
Dawn blinked up at Legolas, lost in confusion. A part of her remembered how to make love to him- they exact way in which their bodies could move in perfect synchronisation, but there was a heavier part of her drowning her body's almost automatoic responses to him out.  
  
This part of her was busily flooding her mind with burning images of her husband's retreating back. Her own cries rang in Dawn's ears as she remembered begging for him, wanting him and needing him only to have him walk away from her. Abandon her to her own personal hell. Dawn's body completely shut down with the sickening thought.  
  
Legolas didn't love her anymore.  
  
She felt nothing as his body moulded to hers, barely blinked as they came together, just had a vague interest in why she felt so cold all of a sudden. It was awkwards and disjointed and over fast, and they lay side by side, staring up at the ceiling, each lost in their own tormented thoughts.  
  
Legolas tried to look at Dawn, but he could not bring himself to turn his eyes towards the dead cold woman lying beside him. He had been so foolish, thinking that as soon as he had Dawn returned to him everything would be perfect again. He bit back a bitter laugh. It was perfect, all right. Perfect despair.  
  
Again he felt a surge of jealousy, the same one he'd been having for years now. A vision of his wife in the arms of a vampire, staring up at him, her green eyes luminous with the most exquisite wonder. His frown deepened the tiniest bit as the King couldn't help but wonder if he was no longer the type of immortal that Dawn wanted.  
  
She was trying to read the ceiling for answers. Dawn was trying her hardest to figure out why. Why she was so cold. Why she couldn't feel anything. Why Legolas didn't love her. Why anything anymore. Dawn's breathing quickened and she panicked a little. She couldn't have lost all her ability for feeling, could she? She'd lost a lot to Sunndale, but not everything. Not yet. Her jaw set. It was in there somewhere, somewhere in her body, and she was going to find it. She had to.  
  
Legolas felt her moving beside him and refocused his eyes in time to see the soft, pale flesh settling on top of him. Dawn leaned close to her husband's face, but made no move to kiss him.  
  
"Dawn?"  
  
She said one word that only served to confuse him further. "More."  
  
"More? Why?" Legolas needed to ask. He was certain that there had been nothing in all the universe more unromantic and uninspiring than the love they had just failed dismally to make. Why in the name of Valar would Dawn want more of that despair?  
  
Dawn's hair was tumbling over her shoulder to tickle his chin. Neither paid it any mind, their eyes locked but unreadable. "Until I remember how to feel again," Dawn said dully before dropping her head so her face was hidden from view behind a curtain of her hair and forcing herself upon Legolas.  
  
Legolas' eyes widened in horror. This could not be his Dawn. He felt her body clashing with his in pathetic gyrating motions, smelled her hair that hung in loose strands about his face, knew it was Dawn Greenleaf Summers by name, but could not believe it. He did not want to believe it. His Dawn was gone.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Will you so something for me?" Legolas asked quietly, eyes downcast.  
  
The children of Elrond exchanged concerned glances before Arwen spoke. "What is it, Legolas?"  
  
"Dawn."  
  
The twins shared another look. They had been expecting this to come up, sooner or later. Somehow Elladan was comforted by the fact that Legolas was going to talk about Dawn sooner, it meant there was little that he'd endured alone so far. Elrohir, however, was worried. If Legolas was turning to his friends for support so quickly instead of being as unified with his wife as they'd hoped, it may mean that Dawn's adjustment was going to be far more difficult than they'd feared.  
  
"She won't talk to me. Won't connect at all," Legolas admitted, colouring slightly. It was hard for him to concede that he was an inadequate husband to help Dawn, he'd strived for nothing more than her happiness and well-being for over a century and it was killing him to know it wasn't enough for her.  
  
"She needs time," Elladan soothed.  
  
"She needs someone to be there for her," Legolas countered. "And if she won't let it be me. . ."  
  
"Legolas?" Elrohir prompted after several moments of tense silence.  
  
"Will the three of you try? Can you talk to her, make sure she is all right? I need you to take care of her," he said in a quiet rush, as if it was the most difficult thing he'd ever had to say. Even harder than the time he'd had to explain to a ten year old Elanor Gamgee that she could not come and live with him and 'Aunt Dawny' and all the pretty Elves because she needed her parents to take care of her. The fact that her parents loved her very much seemed of little comfort to the heartbroken little hobbit at the time.  
  
"Of course we will."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Harsh steel glinted in the soft moonlight that shone through the bathroom window. Dawn stared at her knife where it lay on the side of the large tub. She remembered the bite of it against her wrists when she was back in Sunnydale, the pain seemed almost a comfort when compared to the numbness that had claimed her body since she'd realised her husband was no longer in love with her.  
  
One hand tugged on the towel wound around the freshly bathed body and it dropped to the floor with a small swishing sound. The other hand closed around the handle of the knife, greeting it like an old friend.  
  
Dawn slowly pressed the knife to the tender skin of her thighs and began to slice, savouring the sharp sting of splitting skin. Three times she drew the blade across the inside of each thigh, and the result, when she mopped up the blood oozing from her and dripping down her legs, was six long tears, as though a cat had clawed at her.  
  
When the blood flow had stopped completely, Dawn cleaned herself up and dressed. Last thing before leaving the solitude of the bathroom, she carefully cleaned the blade of her knife and tucked it away at the small of her back. Legolas may not be able to make her feel anymore, but cold steel still could.  
  
* * * * * 


	15. Chapter fifteen: Cleaning Up

Woo-hoo! Back from the dead again! And yay for twisting the Hellmouth being back as well. Wanted to have this chapter ready the second it came back to celebrate, but the Buffy/Spike stuff just wouldn't work out for me. Still not sure if it really works, so let me know. And for all of you who were terrified of what I've done to poor Dawny and Legolas, but were kind enough to have faith in me when I asked you to, this is my pay-off to you all. Only a couple of chapters left to go in this one, and a big thank you for everyone who's been involved, whether it be reading, reviewing, and the multitude of advice you've all been willing to give whenever I've asked for it. This one has been a lot more difficult to get out than its prequel, but for my fantastic reviewers, I've been inspired to persevere. Thanks, and enjoy. ~Anoron . . .  
  
CHAPTER FIFTEEN- CLEANING UP  
  
There was complete silence in the Summers home, save for the occasional sitfled sob coming from one of the women. Buffy sat still as stone, staring into nothingness, a strange sickness settling into the pit of her stomach. Slowly, she focused her gaze, shifting it around the room.  
  
Giles had his glasses off. His eyes were closed and his hand was massaging his temple. There were shiny tracks down his cheeks from the few tears that had trickled down from beneath the closed lids. Xander was pacing in the foyer, his jaw set and his fists clenched by his side, his entire disposition seemed poised for a fight. Unfortunately, it seemed he could find nothing to fight. Willow and Tara were cuddled up together on the couch, sobbing silently into each other's arms. Anguish was written all over their faces. Buffy's eyes raked over the last being in the room, sitting quietly in a corner. Since Dawn's death, Spike had barely spoken two words to any of them, and yet she could tell he wasn't in the complete and utter agony he had been in after Dawn's first death.  
  
Buffy studied Spike's face intently, watching for a sign of any sort of feeling. As the Slayer stared, the shuttered look on Spike's face slowly gave way to a small, contented smile, as if a pleasant thought had just occurred to the vampire. She glared at him, though Spike didn't notice. Buffy fumed silently at Spike's obvious moment of peace. There was no peace left in the world since Dawn was gone, and he had no right pretending there was!  
  
Spike, absently fingering something in his pocket that rustled like a piece of paper, stood and slipped down into his basement room. Barely noticed by the others, Buffy followed.  
  
Spike looked up as he heard Buffy's shoes clunking down the steps and hastily stuffed the crumpled note he'd been reading back into his pocket. Buffy's eyes narrowed.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Nothing," Spike said quickly.  
  
"Then why did you hide it?"  
  
Spike tried to give a casual shrug. "Cause it's got nothing to do with you, pet. What are you doing down here, anyway?"  
  
For a moment, Buffy was lost for words. What was she supposed to say? She had come to yell at him because he smiled? Suddenly, angry as she was about everything these days, she realised the insanity of wanting to start a fight over a little smile. "I-. . ."  
  
"You what, luv?"  
  
"Nothing," Buffy said quickly.  
  
Spike quirked an eyebrow at her. "You came charging all the way down here for nothing? Not exactly convincing, Slayer."  
  
Buffy scowled. Anger started to cloud her sense of reason and she glared at Spike as if he was the source of all her troubles. But Buffy had become an open book to Spike a long time ago, and he read every page of her emotions easily.  
  
"Pet, I know you're angry about-" he broke of, still not quite able to say her name. "About what's happened, but you can't just fall back on your usual blame Spike routine. That got old a long time ago."  
  
"Why not!?" Buffy snapped. "It's all your fault! Always has been. If you had protected her the first time like you promised me, she never would have died in the first place!"  
  
The Slayer was ranting without any vestiges of sense or reason, but she didn't care. She'd lost so much in her world, she felt like Dawn was the last thing she had to hold on to, and now she was gone. And it was all Spike's fault. Spike's blue eyes had become a stormy grey at Buffy's accusations. He tried to remain calm, he knew it wasn't true now, but his temper was rapidly heating up as he thought of all that Dawn had endured in the past month at all their hands.  
  
"You failed her too," Spike said quietly.  
  
A heartbeat later he was reeling from the force of Buffy's punch to his jaw. He rubbed his sore face as he turned back, but still managed a sadistic grin at the Slayer.  
  
"Did it make you feel better, luv?"  
  
Buffy hit him again. Then again. Deciding enough was enough, Spike fought back. Soon it had escalated into an all-out battle, Buffy screaming out all her frustrations as her blows rained down on Spike. She screamed for Dawn. For her mother. For Anya. For Miss Calendar. For everyone she'd ever failed. For herself.  
  
Somewhere in Buffy's hysterical rantings, Spike snapped. He fought back with just as much venom as Buffy, and soon the pair were covered in cuts and bruises, and lay panting on the dusty basement floor. Spike was staring at the ceiling, Buffy was glaring at him. Before he could react, she reached over and ripped the piece of paper he had been reading earlier from his pocket.  
  
"Hey!" Spike exclaimed, but it was too late.  
  
Buffy had scrambled to her feet, out of his reach and opened up the piece of paper. It was a note, written in Dawn's handwriting, but that's all Buffy understood of it. A handful of strange words were scrawled across the page, and Buffy felt a stab of recognition at two of them in particular. Alta Nquel. She was sure she'd heard Dawn say that to Spike many times, when they thought she wasn't listening.  
  
By now Spike was back on his feet. He ripped the note from Buffy's hands and stuffed it back into his leather duster. Buffy glared at him, and when she spoke, her voice shook with anger and fear.  
  
"What the hell was that?"  
  
"You don't want to know, luv," Spike responded truthfully.  
  
"Yes I do! She was my sister, Spike. Mine! Not yours, and I have a right to know what that note said."  
  
"Of course you do Buffy, it's all about you after all. Isn't it," Spike sneered. "Look at the Slayer, queen of the world with all the little people running around after her, cleaning up her mess. Of course all their business should be hers too, she's the Chosen One, the one who gets to know it all. Right!?"  
  
"Tell me where she was!"  
  
"She was happy."  
  
The second the words were out of his mouth, Spike froze. He'd just broken his promise to Dawn. He squeezed his eyes shut tight. 'Amin hiraetha, Tarien' he thought, meaning it with all his dead heart. [I'm sorry, Princess]  
  
Spike didn't even see the blow coming. Buffy's fist connected with his temple so hard he slipped into oblivion, knocked unconscious.  
  
* * * * *  
  
// I thought I could live in your world,  
  
As years all went by, I. . .  
  
With all the voices I've heard,  
  
Something has died. . . //  
  
She was sitting in her favourite courtyard again, staring at nothing, lost in her thoughts.  
  
Legolas felt a tear well up in his eye unexpectedly. He missed Dawn. Every time he looked at her, spoke to her or tried to touch her, she pulled away from him. He was terrified to admit had no idea how to reach her anymore. Her eyes, once so vibrant and expressive, were shuttered to him now. He could no longer tell what she was thinking and feeling by a look. Legolas bitterly wondered of she was even feeling anything anymore. Valar knew she wouldn't talk to him. Wouldn't say what had happened to hurt her so badly, who had done this to her. Wouldn't let him in. She hadn't spoken to Arwen or the twins about her pain, either. No matter how hard any of the Elves tried, she would not let them reconnect with her. He brushed the tear away quickly. A pang of jealousy hit him as he thought of Dawn in the arms of the vampire, the vision haunted him almost ceaselessly these days, but his wife's need for him drove his jealousy aside.  
  
For the millionth time since she had returned, Legolas felt anger burning within him. He vowed that if Dawn ever told him for certain who was responsible for her hurting, he would hunt them down and kill them, slowly and painfully.  
  
Dawn didn't notice the Elf silently sit beside her. Legolas tentatively reached out for her.  
  
"Dawn?" he tried to take her hand.  
  
She jumped and yanked her hand away. "Oh," she said a moment later, when she registered who was sitting beside her.  
  
"I'm sorry, Legolas. You startled me," she said lamely.  
  
But Legolas was not listening to Dawn's words. He was staring at her forearm. The loose sleeve of her gown had fluttered up when she's jerked her hand away, and Legolas found himself staring at the exposed underside of her wrist.  
  
Legolas was horrified when he saw the two scars on Dawn's wrist. They were not quite healed, maybe a couple of weeks old, and were no accident. The two slits formed the perfect shape of a cross.  
  
Dawn looked down and too late realised what her husband was so engrossed in. She tried to cover her scars hastily, but he caught her hand in an iron grip. Dawn cried out and tried to break free, but Legolas yanked her roughly to her feet.  
  
"What is this?" he hissed at her. Dawn, too busy struggling against him, did not register the fear in Legolas' voice. He hauled her along the path, half carrying her by her arms when she refused to walk herself, and deposited her firmly in their bedroom.  
  
She stumbled into the room as she was pushed forwards, but Legolas ignored her, turning to lock the door behind him. In a heartbeat, he had seized Dawn by the arm once more.  
  
"Let me go!' she screamed, terrified. She struck out at him, but that only enabled the Elf to take hold of her free arm as well. He pushed the fabric back from her wrist and gasped.  
  
Another cross had been bitten into her skin by a knife. It was identical to the first cuts he'd seen.  
  
Dawn cringed under Legolas' gaze. He was horrified by what he'd seen. She knew he must be disgusted with her, and that it was finally happening. He was going to leave her, there would be no way he could love her now.  
  
With a frown, Legolas began to unlace the bodice of her dress. When Dawn tried to flee from him again, it became too difficult to be gentle. He tore into the fabric, hearing it rip as he forcefully pulled Dawn's clothing from her body. Her will to fight him eventually left her and she allowed him to finish undressing her.  
  
She stood there deathly still, naked and alone, while Legolas went over every inch of her skin with his eyes. She heard his breath catch in his throat as he knelt before her. His finger gently traced one of the six long cuts over her thighs, newer and angrier than those which were beginning to scar her wrists. New cuts. . . cuts she had to have made while she was here, in Mirkwood, at home.  
  
Confusion overcame him. Legolas stood up, looking deep in her eyes. Dawn began to tremble. He wasn't holding her back any more, so she ran for the door, desperate to escape those deep blue wells of pain.  
  
She reached the door, and pulled on it. Nothing happened. She pulled again. It was still closed. Dawn began to yank frantically at the handle, becoming increasingly distressed when the door would not open.  
  
Legolas watched her for a moment, sadly realising that this pathetic figure fighting like a caged animal was not the strong, lively woman he married all those years ago in Minas Tirith. He picked up a blanket from the edge of the bed and went over to her. Dawn was slumped against the door, defeated.  
  
Legolas wrapped her carefully in the blanket. She protested when she felt his hands on her skin, but he ignored her. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, refusing to let her go.  
  
Dawn eventually stopped resisting him and let him embrace her. A few minutes later, she burst into tears. Legolas led her across the room, lowering her into a sitting position on the bed and adjusting the blanket about her shoulders. He sat beside her and held onto her.  
  
"I'm so sorry," she choked out. She couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye. Legolas soothingly stroked her hair, patiently listening. For a moment, all thoughts and traces of jealousy regarding Spike fled from Legolas. His wife needed him now, that was the important thing.  
  
"I love you, Legolas. I know I do. I just. . . don't remember how to anymore. I'm so afraid there's nothing left of me anymore and you're only gonna leave me in the end."  
  
She threw her head back, gulping for air. "I don't want you to leave me, but maybe- maybe. . ." she choked up again. "Maybe you'd be better off without me." She forced herself to look him in the eye. "You deserve someone who not only loves you, but is capable of loving. I'm just not sure I have that in me anymore."  
  
Legolas let go of Dawn. He slid off the bed to rest on one knee in front of her. "Dawn. I love you. I waited for you for thirty three years and now that you're finally here I'm not about to give up on you now! Whatever you've been through, whoever you are, I know you. And I will always love you. I'll be with you forever. Forever," he promised and sealed it with a kiss.  
  
//And when you're in need of someone,  
  
My heart won't deny you.  
  
So bad it seems so long  
  
There ain't no-one left to cry to baby...//  
  
Dawn felt Legolas' mouth pressing softly against hers and was surprised at how good it made her feel. She hadn't felt good in so long, and she found herself responding to him easily.  
  
Legolas felt the kiss deepening and pulled back. He didn't want to rush Dawn. He never wanted to feel anything as awful as their last time together again. "Maybe we should take this more slowly," he breathed, running a hand over her cheek.  
  
But Dawn shook her head. This felt more right than anything she could even remember. "No- please just kiss me?" she asked, longing for him creeping into her soft voice.  
  
Legolas nodded and kissed her again. Dawn leaned back, drawing him into her, not noticing as the blanket slipped away from her shoulders. Legolas melted into Dawn, feeling her fingers scratching lightly against his chest as she worked his tunic off. He let her take her time undressing him, enjoying just the feel of her heartbeat close by his.  
  
This time when they came together, it was a feeling of warmth so beautiful that Legolas felt the tears sliding down his face to mingle with Dawn's. For half a second it caused him concern to see his wife's tears, but when he beheld the flicker of light in her green eyes, he understood her tears were the same as his, and it made him cry that much harder just to know Dawn was feeling. She was alive.  
  
Afterwards, they lay together for a long time, content for the moment just to reacquaint themselves with each other's bodies after a lifetime of separation. Legolas found himself pressing butterfly kisses to each of Dawn's cuts and scars, as if willing them to heal by his love. When he was done, he stretched out for Dawn to cuddle into his chest.  
  
Finally, she turned her shining green eyes up to him and answered a question he'd been burning to ask ever since her return. A part of him already knew the answer, but it didn't stop the wave of sorrow that washed over him all the same.  
  
"I lost the baby," she whispered. "I'm sorry."  
  
"It's not your fault, darling," Legolas murmured, and as he pressed a kiss to Dawn's forehead, she actually believed him  
  
* * * * *  
  
There you go! But I will warn you, we're not quite out of the woods yet. But I'd say this is a big step forwards for their relationship, right? What do you think? R&R, please! ~Anoron 


	16. CHapter 16: Two Steps Forward, One Back

Well, here it is. After way too long since the last update. The last full chapter. And ya know what- I still don't own anything! Not Dawn, not Legolas (damn!), none of it. Whedon and Tolkien do, why don't you go bug them for it? . . . .  
  
CHAPTER SIXTEEN- TWO STEPS FORWARD, ONE BACK. . .  
  
//And don't you cry tonight  
  
Don't you cry tonight  
  
Don't you cry tonight  
  
There's a heaven above you baby  
  
And don't you cry. . .//  
  
"Arwen?"  
  
The She-Elf's head swung gracefully around at the sound of the tentative voice from the doorway to her sitting room.  
  
"Dawn?" Arwen queried, not quite able to keep the surprise out of her voice at the sight of her troubled friend. Dawn had not actively sought anyone's company since her return, yet she was here now, standing in the doorway, waiting as if for permission to approach.  
  
"Will you come and sit with me?" Arwen invited, gesturing to a chair by her own.  
  
Slipping into the room swift and fleeting as a shadow, Dawn settled herself in the chair. After a few moments of awkward silence, Dawn gave a small, uncertain smile that sent thrills of joy through Arwen's being. Small and timid as it was, it was a genuine smile, a gift she had secretly feared she would never receive from Dawn again.  
  
"I have something to tell you," Dawn confessed all of a sudden, as if she'd only just managed to muster her courage for the task. In patient silence, Arwen listened. She reached out a supportive hand to rest on Dawn's, and was heartened when the Mirkwood Queen did not pull away from the contact.  
  
"I guess you'd figured out where I was?"  
  
"Sunnydale?"  
  
With a short nod, Dawn continued. "Well, while I was there, I had a. . . visit from someone we used to know. He came to help bring me home," she amended slightly from the truth, not yet ready to admit she wasn't sure she should've returned to Middle-Earth at the time of her brother's visit. Arwen nodded, somehow seeming to guess the truth, though she chose not to confront Dawn with it.  
  
"Estel sends you a message, Arwen. He says you shouldn't have to be lonely. Nobody should," Dawn added, more to herself than to her friend.  
  
Arwen, meanwhile, had gone slightly rigid at the mention of her late love. Her eyes brightened with her lingering grief before they fluttered closed against the tears threatening to well up in them. Noticing, Dawn twisted her hand around under Arwen's so she could squeeze it comfortingly.  
  
Making a swift decision, Dawn reached over and wrapped her arms around her friend in a gentle hug. Both grateful and pleased at Dawn's seemingly swift recovery in connecting with her world, Arwen returned the hug with feeling. For a long while, the two women drew silent comfort from each other. Tears were spilling down onto the material of Arwen's dress, and she was surprised to find that they were not her own. Puzzled, she pulled back to look into her friend's face.  
  
Embarrassed by her apparent lack of emotional control, Dawn wiped hastily at her eyes. For a moment she appeared more as the eighteen year old girl her appearance suggested, rather than the century-old Queen contained within. "I'm sorry," she choked out. "Look at me- crying. Can't even keep a promise to my own big brother without bursting into tears."  
  
But Arwen smiled. If Dawn was crying, she was feeling, and it was now possible for the Elves to help her. "There is no shame in your tears, Dawn," she insisted.  
  
Dawn shook her head, her memory drifting back to Estel's Sunnydale visit. "He was so disappointed in me," she said, her voice small, her gaze averted from Arwen's. "The look in his eyes. . ."  
  
"No," Arwen said softly to Dawn. "Aragorn could never have been disappointed in you, not even if you had marched into Mordor and handed the One Ring straight into Sauron's clutches. His heart may have broken for you, mellonin [my friend], but he would not hold you in less esteem for your pain. His spirit holds far too great a wisdom to allow such a thing."  
  
A fleeting, toothless smile twitched on Dawn's face, but did not quite reach her eyes and Arwen knew in that instance that she was unconvinced. A soft noise from the door drew their attention, and they turned to find Elladan and Elrohir staring at them. More particularly, at Dawn and her newfound sociability.  
  
"Dan, Ro," she smiled warmly at them. "How are you guys?"  
  
Their eyes widened minutely in surprise, and Elladan's answer of "Five by five," was given completely unconsciously. It seemed to satisfy Dawn though and she studied the attire of the twins a moment.  
  
"Been hunting?"  
  
"Yes, and quite a good haul too," Elrohir answered, while Elladan raised his eyes at Arwen, whose grey eyes danced in response to her brother's unasked question. "So I hope you're hungry tonight."  
  
"Yeah, I am pretty hungry," Dawn said softly.  
  
"It is no surprise, Dawn. You've barely eaten a full meal since you've been home," Elladan lightly admonished. "There's near nothing left of you."  
  
"You sound like Spike," Dawn groaned. "He was always on my case about not eating right."  
  
* * * * *  
  
That evening when Dawn sat down to dinner with Legolas and their friends, Elrohir remembered her earlier confession of increased hunger and added a little more food to her plate in the hopes that she would return to a healthier eating pattern.  
  
"Thanks, Ro, this looks great. One of your kills?"  
  
"Probably one of mine," Elladan snorted. It was widely known that when Elrond's sons were engaged in either battle or a hunt, it was a constant competition for the most kills, just as it had been between Legolas and Gimli. Unlike the Elf and the Dwarf, however, the twins would tell no-one but each other their scores, only announcing the winner at the end of the day.  
  
Dawn felt Legolas cover her hand with one of his own as it rested on the table and turned to smile at him.  
  
"I love it when you do that."  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Smile."  
  
"I guess I should try to do it more often," Dawn admitted, half- sincere, half-sheepish.  
  
"I'd like that."  
  
Elrohir leaned over and whispered to his siblings. "Are they actually flirting?"  
  
"I believe so," Arwen commented playfully.  
  
Dawn sighed in mock annoyance. "I'm so glad I taught you guys my language," she said sarcastically.  
  
Legolas laughed. "Melamin, I think it is safe to say that none among us will ever truly understand your language."  
  
Dawn smiled along with the others as they laughed, but her thoughts turned reflective inside her. Was there an element of truth behind Legolas' words, innocently as they were meant? She didn't know that they would understand her, even if she told them what she'd been through. After all, how could they understand what it was like to come to hate the family that raised you because of the way they hurt you? Dawn shook her head to herself. She didn't even think she wanted them to understand, didn't like the idea of the four most important people in this world to her enduring that sort of pain.  
  
Innocence. The Elves still had it, somehow. She'd lost it. It had bled out of her along with her unborn baby and her love for anything in that hell dimension Buffy had called home. Dawn sighed to herself, hating to think of anything that had once been pure and beautiful becoming jaded.  
  
'But Spike,' a voice whispered in the back of her mind. 'Spike is not innocent, but he is still beautiful. It is possible. It's possible for you, too.'  
  
At the small, fond smile creeping across Dawn's lips, Legolas cocked his head to the side. "What are you thinking of?" he asked softly, glad of the fact that now she would probably give him an honest answer.  
  
"Oh, I was just thinking about Spike," she admitted, not noticing the way Legolas' back stiffened, or the way his jaw hardened at the mention of the Dawn's favourite vampire.  
  
"He sort of kept me going while I was in Sunnydale, y'know, kept me in some semblance of living if you could call it that. Breathing, in any event. All he did for me, he was really beautiful, and I miss him a lot now he's gone forever."  
  
Legolas closed his eyes, and in that moment he knew what his mind had been telling him all along, ever since the dreams of Dawn making love to another began invading his sleep and his sanity. All the while through their separation, he had lived on her, and she had lived on Spike. Again his mind was assaulted with the image.  
  
Dawn flat on her back on what he recognised as the Summers' living room floor, having seen it in visions of her past long ago, her beautiful body naked, covered only by the cold flesh pressed against it, invading her. Her eyes were closed tight, her forehead slightly creased in pain and discomfort, but Dawn clung to Spike's shoulders as if holding on to him for dear life. As if he was the only thing in the world.  
  
Legolas' eyes snapped open, the crystal blue glittering harshly with rage and grief. Yet Dawn was oblivious, chatting to a curious Elrohir about the almost unique vampire while the others busied themselves with their food, choosing to quietly listen.  
  
"Before meeting you, Dawn, all Elves know beyond doubt that all vampires are evil beings, without emotion or hope for redemption. Yet you speak of one who would prove us wrong, yet again," Elrohir chuckled.  
  
Dawn smiled. "Actually, Ro, Angel was the one big with the redemption kick. Spike was the one with the emotion. It was all about the passion with Spike, always about love one way or another."  
  
"Vampires feel? But only the ones cursed with a soul, as you explained it, correct?"  
  
"Nu-uh. Spike was always falling head over heels for the wrong girl even when he was supposed to be the Big Bad. He even used to admit he was love's bitch," she smiled fondly at the memory of Spike trying to get over Drusilla. "And when I was back there, he loved me more than anything," Dawn concluded quietly.  
  
Something inside Legolas snapped. He had the vague notion it could've been his heart, but the fury flooding his body was numbing the pain for the moment. Abruptly, he stood, knocking his chair back.  
  
"Then you should not have left him," he snarled, stalking from the dining room and leaving a stunned table in his wake.  
  
Dawn turned wide, fearful eyes to her friends, who stared just as blankly back. 'He doesn't want me here,' she thought wildly. 'No! It can't be true. He does, I know he does!' Without a word, she sprang to her feet, flying through the castle in pursuit of her husband.  
  
//Don't you ever cry  
  
Don't you cry tonight  
  
Baby maybe someday.//  
  
"Legolas?" Dawn called, stepping into their bedroom.  
  
He did not answer, but he was there, staring out at the shadows growing over the Forest. Dawn closed the door behind her and made her way over to his side, where only hours before he'd sworn she belonged.  
  
"What's wrong, Melamin? Why are you cranky?"  
  
"Cranky?" Legolas spat the word. "I am cranky because my wife was unfaithful to me, giving herself to a vampire, no less! Tell me, Dawn, why should I not be cranky?"  
  
Dawn froze. Unfaithful with a vampire. Sleeping with Spike. The dream. Why he wouldn't look at her. How he had started to slip from her subconscious. She backed away slowly, sinking down onto the bed and into a memory from her old life. The one where she'd grieved Buffy's second death fighting the First Evil.  
  
~~~  
Her eyes were closed, she was trying so hard to block the harsh world out as she sank back into the plushy couch. He was sitting beside her, watching her, trying desperately to think of a way to comfort her but he was too caught up in his own grief to give much consideration to anything.  
  
Dawn felt something cold touch her cheek, but she didn't flinch. The soft cold contact coaxed her eyes open and she found herself locked into a deep blue gaze shining with unshed tears.  
  
"Spike," she whispered, her voice thick with her own tears and she shifted closer to him, wanting so badly for something to cling to that would take the pain away. Something that would lie to her and tell her she wasn't alone.  
  
She burrowed into him and wound her arms around his neck. She was shaking with grief, but this time was different. Spike's shirt was dry, when he thought it should be wet with the Nibblet's tears, maybe even his own by now. Still she buried deeper and deeper, as if she was trying to escape herself by climbing out of her skin and into his, and the heat of her body was starting to intoxicate Spike.  
  
Before either of them knew what had happened, they were on the living room floor and Spike was popping the buttons of Dawn's jeans open. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Dawn knew this was wrong, but she didn't care. Soon there was nothing between Spike's flesh and her own, and a feeling of sharp pain clouding her senses.  
  
Dawn clung to the pain, clung to Spike, a warm body clashing with a cold one in a bid to drive the emptiness from the hearts of each. She never knew how long it had lasted, only had a hazy memory of pulling her clothes back on some time later and knowing that what they'd done would never happen again. She did not even want it to happen again, but was grateful that it had happened anyway. Maybe there were reasons to live, ways to fulfil her promise to Buffy that she would do so.  
  
~~~  
  
In the silence that greeted his questions, Legolas' temper grew.  
  
"Well? Have you no answer to give me then? I should think you at least owe me that, amin Tari," he reasoned, using her title sarcastically. [My Queen]  
  
"You would really think so little of me?" Dawn whispered brokenly. The knowledge that Legolas so easily believed she would ever cheat on him burned Dawn on the inside and made her eyes sting with tears.  
  
"I saw you, Dawn!"  
  
Dawn almost jumped. She'd never heard Legolas yell like that before. But he was not finished.  
  
"I saw you in the dreams, and I know they were real! I felt it! How can you sit there and deny it? You made love to him! How dare you lie to me!?"  
  
Green eyes flashed dangerously with a temper that had not been released in far too long. Legolas' words had kindled it though, and Dawn shot to her feet, staring him down.  
  
"You have no idea what you saw!" she screamed, raising her voice to match his.  
  
"It is not something easily mistaken, Dawn!"  
  
"Obviously, it is! Did you even look at what you were seeing? Did you really?" Dawn screeched, not giving him time to answer before continuing with her rant. "Well, you can't have looked too closely, because if you had pulled your head out of your ass long enough to do so, you'd have realised that you were seeing something that happened when I was fifteen!"  
  
Legolas knitted his brows together in confusion. It could not be, could it?  
  
"That's right," Dawn stormed at him. "You've been hating me for something that was long dead three years before I even met you. So I hope you feel like a complete jackass for everything you've just said, because it really hurt." By the end of her speech, Dawn's tone had lowered itself, subdued with the sorrow Legolas' accusation had caused her.  
  
"I never hated you," Legolas whispered.  
  
"Well you sure looked at me like you did," Dawn flared up once more. "And you know what- you really have nothing to worry about. I love you, Legolas. It's always been you, and nobody has ever even come close to making me feel the way you can with just one look."  
  
Legolas looked down, ashamed of his own stupidity and mistrust. He should have known better of Dawn, and he deserved her wrath. "So Spike was your first?"  
  
"Yes. Spike was my first. And since you're all of a sudden so interested in my romantic history, let me lay it out for you; there was that one night with Spike, and yes we both know it was wrong and stupid, but it happened anyway! Then there was Justin, the cute guy I made out with on Halloween when I was fifteen. He turned out to be a vamp and I staked him. That's pretty much it. Oh- I'm sorry- there was also this one time back in Edoras when I gave Eomer a hug, I'm pretty sure I accidentally touched his ass! As you can see, you've never had anything to worry about. I just hoped you had always trusted that."  
  
Dawn finished her tirade out of breath, colour high in her cheeks, waiting for Legolas to respond. A part of her was embarrassed at her outburst, but it was all true, and at least it was all out in the open now.  
  
As he stared down into Dawn's emerald eyes, Legolas could think of no suitable response. There was so much he wanted to tell Dawn, a million apologies he wanted to make to her, but there were no words in the Elven tongue, the Common, or even in Dawn's Valley-speak that would suffice.  
  
Finally, he reached out and laid his hands gently on Dawn's cheeks, pulling her face to his, his kiss speaking much more eloquently than his words. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he murmured against her lips, pressing light kisses to them in between words.  
  
"I was wrong, and stupid. Amin ikotane hiraetha, amin saimela lle ikotane. Please forgive me." [I'm so sorry, I love you so much.]  
  
"Of course I'll forgive you. Amin mela lle, vithel, amin Aran. Estelio tanya," Dawn responded, littering his face with feather-light kisses of her own. [I love you, also, my King. Trust that.]  
  
Pulling away, Legolas smiled. "I do," he vowed. "I do trust in that."  
  
A sudden realisation swept over Dawn, lightening her heart in ways she'd almost forgotten. Certainty settled within her. "We're gonna be ok, aren't we?"  
  
"Count on it," Legolas quipped, knowing she loved it when he used her phrases. A slient communication passed between the couple, and hand in hand they made their way to the door, prepared to go and find the friends and guests they'd so hastily abandoned.  
  
Legolas reached out a hand and pulled the door open. Two identical Elves jumped back in surprise, having not been prepared for the approach of the couple, only to jump into a third dark-haired Elf hovering in the hall just behind them.  
  
"Hello," Elrohir smiled brightly. Elladan and Arwen seemed to be attentively studying their feet.  
  
Dawn and Legolas exchanged a look, and then, grinning, leaned in for a kiss. 


	17. Epilogue

EPILOGUE A/N I know I didn't have a prologue, but just humour me! It's tiny anyway. Don't own Buffy or Spike either. And still not Dawn. .  
  
. .  
  
Spike lay on his cot in the Summers' basement, nursing the cuts and bruises Buffy had given him. One eye was black and partially closed, but at the creak on the stairs above him, he forced it open wide enough to study his visitor. When he recognised the figure moving over to stand before him, he heaved himself to his feet with some effort.  
  
"Come back for another go, luv? Or perhaps you've come back for another go at something else?" he sneered.  
  
Buffy's face remained stony, her eyes cold and her voice clipped. "You know where my sister went," she stated more than asked.  
  
"Yeah," Spike drawled lazily.  
  
"Good. You're gonna take me to her."  
  
//And don't you cry  
  
Don't you ever cry  
  
Don't you cry-  
  
Tonight.//  
  
THE END  
  
A/N. Well, there you have it. The pain is finally over. For this story, anyway. There may be another, creating an Ilfirin Meleth trilogy, but don't hold your breath because I make no promises and I don't want anybody passing out and hitting their heads on my account. I hope you liked this, or at least appreciated it in some way, but I know it was a controversial topic and I really don't mind if you hated every word I wrote, so long as you give me good reason why. That being said, thank you to everyone who reviewed, no matter what you said. Your support and your input were what kept me inspired to finally churn this ending out. Biggest thanks go to my regular and always faithful reviewers, particularly Sonofgloin, as usual, and all you guys from 'The Key and the Elf', you're really an inspiration. Um, a lot of you had questions about certain things, and I'd like to thank you for taking the time to think so much about my work, but hopefully if you have a quick look at my other A/Ns at the beginnings and endings of earlier chapters, it should answer any questions you have. If not, review and tell me to get off my lazy butt and make it clear for you. Thanks again, I do hope you enjoyed. ~Anoron 


End file.
